


Selfless

by ghostgirl19



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Captive by choice, Drama, F/M, Marichat, No Ladybug till later, Oblivious Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Romance, Slow Burn, Some angst, Sprinkles of Beauty and the Beast and Eros and Psyche, Supervillain!Chat Noir
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-08-18 17:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 48,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8169301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostgirl19/pseuds/ghostgirl19
Summary: Chat Noir used to be Paris's beloved hero, but has inexplicably turned over to the bad side. The Mayor offers him anything in return for his city's peace. And what does he want? Just an ordinary, black-haired, blue-eyed designer...ON HIATUS





	1. Chapter 1

This is an AU where Chat's Miraculous doesn't have a limit. Chat can do however many cataclysms he wants. He still has to feed Plagg, though. Also, Ladybug doesn't exist...not yet, at least ;) 

Chat Noir was beloved by all.

He was brave, strong, and didn't hesitate to save a citizen from any kind of danger, even if it put himself in peril.

Key word: was.

Now, he's a menace to Paris. More than that, he's a menace to all of France. With the power of destruction at his fingertips, he didn't hesitate to level some buildings to the ground to get his point across.

France implored other countries to help, but they were all either too intimidated to help or just wanted to keep to themselves. Chat Noir's home was Paris and it seemed it was going to stay that way, so why should they bother with him and possibly endanger their own people by provoking him?

No one knew why he had suddenly snapped, but everyone remembered when.

Instead of coming to stop the bank robber, he was the robber.

Instead of helping put out the fire, he caused it.

Instead of capturing the man threatening to bring the building to the ground, he was that man.

Marinette remembered it was also around the time when the love of her life, Adrien Agreste, disappeared.

He was so warm, kind, and sweet. The sweetest and most gentlemanly boy you could ever meet. He was entirely out of her league, but he always took time out of his day to smile or talk to her. She tried talking to him, but a bunch of stutters and mumbles would come out instead to her utter embarrassment.

However, Adrien, bless him, didn't seem to mind it. In fact, when he took a look at her growing blush and heard her increasing shy stammers, he seemed to smile wider and talk to her more, as if to try to coax her out of her shell.

That's why she was in love with him. She wasn't like the other girls who only admired him for his looks and money. He was gorgeous, yes, and insanely rich due to his fashion mogul of a father, but they were merely bonuses in comparison to the gentle and kind nature of the boy.

One day he didn't show up for school. It was in the middle of sophomore year. Adrien had been going to their school for little more than a year now, Chat Noir was a fairly new hero to Paris, and Marinette was hopelessly in love with her classmate.

It was assumed he was sick, so no one made a big deal of it. That is, until the news reports declaring that Adrien Agreste, son of fashion guru Gabriel Agreste, had gone missing, had aired.

Marinette, naturally, was worried sick. Did he run away? Was he kidnapped? Was he just walking down the street and someone killed him there in cold blood?

A few days later, to make matters worse, Chat Noir was robbing one of Paris's more popular banks.

First Adrien's disappearance, and now Chat Noir had turned to the bad side? What was the world coming to?

It was a rumor among the Parisians that Chat Noir had something to do with Adrien's disappearance. However, he neither confirmed, nor denied, this rumor. Whenever someone would shout the question at him, he'd turn tail and flee, usually with his stolen loot.

Did she think Chat Noir was capable of murder? Never, when he was a hero. But now that he's the bad guy?

Maybe.

Marinette sometimes went out at night, trying to find her beloved classmate. Looking back on it, she knows it was stupid, but in the mind of a 15-year old girl that was infatuated with him, she thought it was a good idea. Maybe she could find him and he'd fall in love with his savior.

A few times when walking, she had heard someone following her. In blind hope, she would turn around and hope it was Adrien. However, a terrified scream would reach her ears before she could fully turn, and that was enough to send her running for home.

She stopped after three incidents.

Now, she was 18, and preparing to finish her final year of high school to go to college. She already had the best one picked out, and was awaiting for either her approval letter, or rejection letter.

Everyone assured her that her designs were amazing, that she'd get in the school no problem. Marinette wanted to believe them, but she couldn't help but feel nervous. There was always going to be someone who was better than the other, so why wouldn't they just pick that person instead of her?

"You worry too much," Alya chastised, rolling her eyes.

The girls were walking down the sidewalk, just taking an afternoon stroll. Granted, it was pretty dangerous since Chat Noir could pop up at any moment and wreck havoc, but they couldn't live their lives in fear. They had to get out and still keep their heads up.

It also may or may not also have to do with Chat Noir being the biggest scoop in history, according to the aspiring journalist. Marinette would always scold her for this viewpoint and tell her to be more careful.

"I'll be careful when I'm 80 and in a wheelchair," Alya would scoff.

"Yeah right, you're the type that would be trying to do wheelies down the hall," Marinette would then giggle.

She closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose. She opened her blue bell orbs again before answering her best friend.

"I can't help it, Alya! I mean, it's not a guarantee that I'll make it in."

"It is, you're the best when it comes to fashion." Alya turned to her to give her a wink. "When they see your designs, they'll be begging you to accept!"

Marinette laughed, just thinking of the thought of a bunch of grown men and women clamoring over themselves just to write her acceptance letter.

"I doubt that," Marinette insisted, rolling her eyes.

The pair laughed until the sound of sirens reached their ears.

Alya's eyes lit up and her mouth dropped into an open smile. Her hand immediately flew to the cell phone in her pocket.

"Alya," Marinette began warily. "I don't think-"

"Come on!" She cried, grabbing onto the designer's arm to pull her closer to the scene.

Marinette silently prayed that they wouldn't get injured or get in trouble by the police for this. Alya wasn't a stranger to being reprimanded by Sabrina's father for being too close to a crime scene.

A pair of sky blue eyes widened as they took in the scene.

Police cars blocked the entrance to the bridge below the Eiffel Tower, civilians were scattered around, gasping and pointing up to the famous monument.

While Marinette squinted her eyes and tried to find what all the commotion was about, Alya hit her on the shoulder repeatedly in excitement.

"Chat Noir! It's Chat Noir! Girl, we gotta get closer!"

Marinette paled and visibly gulped. "Alya, I don't think-"

"Come on!" The auburn-haired girl insisted and grabbed her hand again, dragging her closer to the scene.

Marinette could only hope Chat Noir would stay on the Eiffel Tower and not come down, she didn't want to be face-to-face with him. She admired him when he was a hero and wouldn't mind the possibility of meeting him, but now it was the complete opposite.

She was scared to death of that cataclysm of his, the same cataclysm that had helped so many times before.

Alya stopped them to behind the police barricade. The aspiring journalist pouted and crossed her arms. "Move, we need to get closer!" She barked to the policemen's backs.

"What-" The policeman started to say, turning, but when he recognized the speaker he frowned and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

"Miss Cesaire..."

"Hey, Mr. Raincomprix!" Alya grinned, even doing a little wave. "Didn't think I'd miss this, did you?"

The chief sighed again, looking utterly exasperated at this point. Marinette didn't blame him for that type of reaction.

"Please just stay out here and don't try to get closer. I have my job to keep and I can't lose it because some crazy reporter tried to get near an insane criminal."

Alya heaved a mocking sigh. "Oh alright, but only because you stopped chasing me away."

"You kept coming back, I figured there wasn't any point to it anymore," the man grumbled dejectedly and turned back to the feline criminal.

From her distanced view, all she could see what his black leather-clad form lounging about the railings of the Tower. He didn't seem to be doing anything. Unless he wanted to destroy it?

Marinette gasped at the possibility. She could always count on the sight of the Tower to give her inspiration of some sort, plus it was beautiful and historical. It would be a tragedy to lose such a symbolic monument.

The Mayor's limo suddenly pulled up. While news reporters's cameras flashed at the sight of the man walking out of the vehicle along with his equally-famous daughter, Alya hadn't bothered to move an inch. Her gaze was glued to her cell phone as she tried various zooms and tilts to capture Chat Noir at just the perfect angle.

Sabrina's father handed the Mayor a megaphone, while Chloe Bourgeois continued smiling and waving at the cameras.

Marinette watched as Mr. Bourgeois walked past the barricade and into the open space on the bridge.

"Chat Noir!" The man's voice bellowed loudly, thanks to the tool. "You have terrorized this city long enough. What is it that you want?"

The black blur on the Tower moved. Marinette's eyes widened and she took an instinctive step back as a long, silver baton came into view. Her head followed up it until she saw the criminal himself perched at the top with perfect balance. How did he even do that?

He smirked down at them, green cat-eyes glinting with mischief. "What do I want, you ask? Hm..." He tapped a finger on his chin in thought. "I suppose I want a lot of things, Mr. Mayor."

He didn't elaborate anymore on that. His smile still stayed in place, playful and mischievous and the tiniest bit evil.

Marinette found herself shivering. It still unnerved her that his voice hadn't changed at all since his hero days. If anything, it had gotten slightly deeper with age.

"We implore you as a city to stop your reign of terror!" Mayor Bourgeois continued, voice rising in a hint of desperation. "You used to be a hero, what happened?"

"What happened?" Chat Noir echoed, laughing. "What happened was that I woke up. I realized that no matter what I do," his voice dropped an octave, his mouth formed into a frown, "it will never be good enough."

Marinette blinked in puzzlement. Paris always appreciated the hero, they even built a statue of him in the park (though they had taken it down, long ago) to show their appreciation. What could he possibly mean? What else did he want?

"We'll give you anything if you leave Paris alone!" Mayor Bourgeois cried, ignoring Chat Noir's dark comment. "Anything!"

The former hero's lips quirked into a grin. "Anything, hm? And all you require in return is peace...my, my, you make quite an offer, sir."

Marinette waited with baited breath. Here, she would find out the fate of her home. Would it eventually be destroyed at his touch, or will it prevail?

Chat Noir's eyes scanned the crowd. For a brief, panic-stricken second, she believed he locked eyes with her. But that was impossible, why would he pick her out of the sea of faces? She was ordinary, a nobody.

Her mouth parted in fear as he grinned, seemingly directed at her, before returning his attention to Mayor Bourgeois.

"Very well, Mr. Mayor. You give me the one thing I want, and I will leave Paris alone."

She heard a collective gasp sound throughout the crowd, hers included. He was really going to leave them alone? After three years they were finally going to be able to live in peace?

She could walk down the street without any fear of seeing him, not have to worry about the building she would be in suddenly start to crumble to the ground. A life without worry of destruction.

"Thank you, Chat Noir!" The Mayor proclaimed, voice higher in happiness mixed with relief. "Now, what is it you want?"

"I want..." He paused, flashing a devilish, wicked smirk. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

Silence.

The cameras stopped flashing.

Marinette's blood ran cold.

Alya tore her eyes away from Chat Noir to gape at her in astonishment.

Sabrina's father slowly turned toward her as well, giving the girl a confused and worried look.

Chloe even looked at her with surprise.

One second. Two. Three. Four.

A minute.

Marinette felt like she was going to fall over. Why was the world spinning so much?

She was barely aware of the new camera flashes aimed in her direction, could barely make out Alya's worried voice, repeatedly asking her if she was alright.

The last thing she could make out before she was met with darkness was a flash of white teeth revealed by a sinful grin.

...

Marinette was awake, yet she didn't open her eyes.

What happened? The last thing she remembered was...

Her eyes snapped open. She was laying in her bed in her bedroom. Alya was at the end, hands pressed to her face.

"Alya?" Marinette asked warily.

Her best friend jumped at the sudden voice and revealed her face, which was covered with tears. The designer squeaked as Alya wrapped her in a bone-crushing hug.

"Are you okay?! Oh my God, Marinette! What are you going to do? You can't go with him! You can't! I won't let you, I'll hide you, he'll never find you-"

Marinette found her head whirling with memories as Alya continued her rambling. She noted with a wry grin that usually she was the one incoherently rambling.

He. Chat Noir. Paris's hero-turned-villain wanted her in exchange for leaving her city alone. Why did he want her? Her of all things? She never even met the guy!

"You're not going with him," Alya declared, pulling away to look her best friend in the eyes. "You're not going with him. You're going to live with me, I'll hide you. You can go to college online, it'll be fine."

"Alya-" Marinette softly spoke, wanting to appease her fear, but she cut her off.

"You'll be fine," she stressed. Tears started to pool in the girl's cheeks again. "You'll...be...fine." Her voice broke as she heaved out a sob, screwing her eyes shut and letting the new tears flow.

"Why you?" She asked. "Why you? Why my best friend? You're innocent, Marinette! You have so much potential, so much talent, so much...growing left to do! It's not fair, he's not going to take that away from you!"

"Alya, please," Marinette sighed. She could feel her own eyes getting moist. "You know I have to go."

She had to. She'd do anything to assure her city's safety, to make sure all the people she cared about were safe. Even if it meant giving herself up to the most terrifying criminal in all of France.

"No, you don't. Marinette, he's going to kill you! Please, please don't go!"

Marinette closed her eyes as she pulled her in for a hug. "Alya, I'll be okay. Maybe...maybe he just needs company. It has to be lonely being who he is."

She knew it was a lie, there was no way that could possibly be the reason. He was going to do as Alya said: kill her.

"That's bullshit," Alya spat over her shoulder. "He's going to use you then kill you. Don't go, I can hide you!"

"Alya," Marinette pleaded. "I have to go with him. If I don't, then he'll just keep destroying our home. I want you and Maman and-"

She froze.

Oh, God. Her parents! What do they think about all this?

"Where are my parents?" Marinette demanded.

"They're downstairs," she informed, pulling out of the hug. "They're talking with the Mayor."

Marinette bolted out of bed, racing down the staircase and going down the trapdoor to her living room. Alya followed suit, saying nothing as she followed her.

As she neared her destination, she could clearly make out the voices of her parents and the Mayor.

"Please, sir, it's for the good of Paris-"

"No! My daughter is not going with that monster! You're the mayor, you're supposed to protect your people!" Her father shouted angrily. She rarely ever heard him like this.

"I agree," her mother cut in, evenly and coolly. "Marinette is not some pawn or trading piece. We refuse to give her up!"

Marinette picked that moment to emerge from her position on the staircase. At the sound of the step creaking under the weight of her foot, all voices quieted and turned their eyes to her. She blushed under their scrutiny.

"Marinette, go upstairs, we'll handle this," Tom ordered sternly.

"No, Papa," she refused, shaking her head. "This mainly involves me, I want to talk."

Her father's expression fell. He knew his daughter's selfless nature, and he beginning to grow uneasy at her tone of voice. "Marinette-"

"Papa." She came down the rest of the steps, walking to face the three of them. Alya stayed at the top of the steps, intently watching the scene play out.

"Marinette, you must go, you must! Paris is counting on you!" Mayor Bourgeois begged. "Please, for the sake of our city!"

"Paris will be fine if she doesn't go," Tom harshly retorted. "If you did your job right, we wouldn't even be in this mess right now!"

"I'm doing my best-"

"Stop!" Marinette ordered, glaring at the two previously arguing men. Her mother stayed silent the whole time, frowning pensively.

The designer heaved a sigh before speaking again. "I'm going. If it means that my home will be safe, I'm going."

Sabine's frown deepened. Her eyes crinkled, trying to fight back the tears.

Tom's mouth dropped in shock.

The Mayor breathed in relief. "Thank you, Marinette! We are all in your debt."

"No!" Tom shouted. "Marinette, you're not going with Chat Noir! You're..." He stopped, voice dropping to a low murmur, nearly cracking in sorrow. "You're our baby."

She closed her eyes to try to reign in her sadness. She may be 18, but she was an only child. She'd forever be their baby. And right now they were going to lose her, possibly never see her again.

She swallowed and opened her eyes again. "I know, Papa. I love you and Maman so much...which is why I'm leaving, I want you to be safe. Please, Papa, you know I have to."

"Marinette-"

"No. I'm going, and that's final. Besides, I'm 18. If I want to go with Chat Noir, I can. There's nothing you can do to stop me." Her tone was cold, sorrowful, and finishing.

Tom gazed at her, in pity and sadness, before slumping over and burying his face in his hands. Sabine leaned into his shoulder, face pressed against his shirt. Their muffled sobs pierced the empty air.

Mayor Bourgeois rose from his seat to kneel before her. It was a strange sight, but she didn't comment on it.

"Thank you, Miss Marinette. Paris will never forget your sacrifice."

...

She was awoken during the night by a rustling sound. She felt the bed dip a little in weight.

What?

Marinette groggily opened her eyes, wondering what had waken her from her sleep.

She bolted upright in bed. Her eyes snapped open, fully alert. Her mouth opened to unleash a loud, shrill scream, but a gloved hand pressed against her mouth before she could utter a sound.

Acid green cat-like eyes pierced through her in the darkness. A lock of blond hair fell in front of his forehead, touching the sleek, black mask around his eyes. His lips were curved into a sly grin.

Chat Noir. What was he doing here? Was he going to steal her away in the middle of the night, like all his other heists?

She whimpered in fear.

"Shh," he crooned softly. "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you, Princess."

She blinked, unable to voice her confusion.

"That was quite a fainting episode today. Are you alright?"

Marinette slowly nodded, not able to process what was happening. He had to be here for some ulterior motive, there was no way he just wanted to inquire after her health.

Who knows, maybe he came here to tell her he changed his mind about her. Yeah right, fat chance of that.

But what was with his 'Princess' line?

"Good. You scared me there," he chuckled.

She scared him? Little, ordinary Marinette scared Chat Noir, the man who held the power of destruction at his fingertips? All because she fainted? Was she dreaming?

"I'm going to remove my hand, but only if you promise not to scream. Can't have any intruders interrupting us." He frowned sternly. "Promise?"

She slowly nodded her agreement. She noticed that he used his right hand to cover her mouth, the hand he always used when destroying things. She wanted it off her at all costs.

He tentatively removed his hand from her mouth. She kept her promise and stayed silent.

"This is only going to take a minute," he spoke. "You have all of tomorrow to say your goodbyes and pack whatever belongings you want. But make it light. You'll have everything you could ever need with me. Speaking of, I never actually got your consent. You are coming with me, right?"

She didn't trust her voice, so she only bobbed her head again in a shaky nod. She wanted him out of here as fast as possible, to preserve whatever time she had left without him before it was gone forever.

He grinned. "So selfless. Well, I can promise you that you'll be happy with me. You'll have whatever you want, you'll have the life of a princess. I won't ever harm you, so don't lose sleep over a silly worry like that."

She shook her head, not believing him for a second. Why should she? He was a traitor, and a liar. He promised to protect Paris, but he lied.

Chat Noir's lips tugged down into a frown, as though he was hurt. She mentally scoffed. Monsters didn't have feelings, they couldn't get hurt.

"Please just go," she whispered pleadingly. No amount of pretty words were going to convince her that he wasn't going to hurt her in some way. "Just say whatever you need to and just go. Please."

He still gazed at her with that faux hurt expression, before his closed his eyes. When he next opened them, they had considerably hardened.

"Okay, I'll get right down to the point. I'll come by tomorrow night, midnight, to get you. Use tomorrow to say your goodbyes and all that. When I come, I expect you to come willingly, not kicking or screaming. Got it?"

She nodded. "Got it," she spoke, willing her voice to not shake in fear.

"Marinette," he whispered softly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."

She had no idea where this newfound courage came from, but she grabbed it and used it. "You once promised to protect Paris, and look what became of that. I don't believe you at all."

His emerald eyes flickered down to the blanket below him. He didn't say a word.

"Get out. Please get out," she begged, looking away from him. She wanted him gone before he could destroy her, or her parents, or-

"Okay. I'm going." He heaved himself up out the glass trapdoor, going back into a starry night. He peered down at her, eyebrows slightly furrowed with depression.

"I know I've done a lot, but you don't have to worry about me, Marinette. I swear on my life, on my Miraculous, that you'll be safe with me."

Marinette gazed up at him, eyes wide and mouth parted at this declaration. If she didn't know any better, she'd say he meant it. She was vaguely aware that the 'Miraculous' was the device that gave him his power. He never disclosed what it was, though.

"I'd never harm a hair on your head," he continued. "I know you don't believe me, but..." He sighed. "I hope you do. Good night."

He closed the glass panel and raced away. Marinette buried her face into one of her pillows and spent the rest of her night sobbing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the support for this story :)

Marinette awoke that morning to red, burning eyes and tear-stained cheeks. This was it, her last day of freedom and life as she knew it. She'd go to school, spend her last moments with her friends, then go home and be with her parents before she'd have to pack and be ready for midnight.

She trudged to the bathroom to get ready, luckily the cold water splashed on her face reduced the redness in her eyes. She looked at herself in the mirror.

Pale skin, pink eyes, black hair that seemed practically lifeless this morning, and mouth tugged down in a frown. She looked horrible, but she could honestly care less. She was going to die in a matter of hours, anyway, who cares how she looked?

After she got ready for school she walked down the stairs leading to the living room, then walked into the kitchen. Her parents were at the table, nibbling on pastries and drinking coffee. If they were here, then the bakery had to have been closed for the day.

"He's picking me up at midnight tonight," she informed them, voice carefully composed.

Her father hung his head down and screwed his eyes shut. Her mother closed her eyes as well, only tears leaked out.

Marinette hugged both of them and kissed them good-bye before grabbing her backpack and making her way to school.

As soon as she entered all eyes were on her. People whispered, others pointed, but all expressed looks of pity for the poor girl. They never thought the nicest girl in the school would become the prey of Chat Noir.

Alya ran to greet her in a wordless hug. When she pulled back, Marinette could tell she was trying to keep her composure.

"So, did you do the homework last night?" Alya asked lightly, a small smile on her face.

Marinette's lips curved up into a half-grin. Thank God for Alya, she didn't know if she could've survived if this day was treated unlike any other.

"No. Somehow, it slipped my mind," she darkly joked, before her face turned serious. "He's picking me up tonight at midnight."

The aspiring journalist frowned and nodded. Together they walked through the halls toward their classroom, walking extra slow because they knew it would be the last time they could walk there together. Alya would make the trek alone after today.

When they entered the classroom all eyes were suddenly trained on them. Nobody spoke as the pair of best friends made their way to their seats.

Nino, who sat alone at the front ever since his own best friend's disappearance, turned around and offered a fist bump to Marinette with a tight smile.

She grinned wryly and bumped her fist with his.

"Good luck. If you can take on Chloe, you can take on Chat Noir," he encouraged, chuckling without humor.

She found herself snorting at this in amusement. Alya rolled her eyes but smiled, too.

Alya bent down to whisper in his ear, probably to tell him when Marinette was leaving. The future DJ nodded but spared Marinette another smile.

Chloe Bourgeois walked in the room then, followed closely by Sabrina. Everyone turned their gazes to the queen bee, wondering what she'd make of today. Would she bother treating Marinette any differently?

The blonde walked with her nose turned up in the air, but paused in front of Marinette's desk. She warily watched as Chloe's ice blue eyes turned to her. Her face was devoid of emotion as she made her way up, stopping only when she was beside the sitting girl.

Alya furrowed her eyebrows and frowned. She wouldn't put it past Chloe to bully Marinette about her sacrifice.

"I don't see why he'd want you," Chloe began snobbishly. "I mean, you're just Marinette. I'm Chloe Bourgeois, my father is the mayor, I'm definitely more valuable than you. So why would he pick you?"

While Alya grit her teeth and was about to fire off an insult, Marinette stopped her by putting a hand on her arm. She returned her attention to Chloe, and for the first time in years, smiled at her.

Because she knew that Chloe wasn't really insulting her. Under the guise, she was saying how she should've been picked instead. That Marinette should've been left alone.

It made sense, in all honesty. As the daughter of the Mayor, it was also her job to ensure people's safety. And while she may bully and tear others down, deep, deep, deep down, she cared.

Marinette was honestly glad that Chloe didn't change at all today. She wouldn't know what to do it the blonde all of a sudden started being nice to her. She just wanted an ordinary last day, like all of the school days before.

"I don't know, Chloe," Marinette replied, a fond smile on her lips as she shook her head. "I don't know."

The ice blue eyes suddenly didn't seem so icy anymore. They seemed to melt just slightly before they hardened.

"Listen, if you can talk back to me, then you can sure as hell give Chat Noir hell. Don't go down without a fight, got it?" The rich girl paused to wryly grin. "Or I'll tell my daddy."

Marinette hiccuped a laugh at that last line. Without warning, she got up from her seat and hugged her pseudo-enemy. The blonde blinked at the sudden affection, but wrapped her arms around her anyways.

The students' mouths dropped. Chloe Bourgeois hugging a student that wasn't Sabrina (or Adrien, but, you know...)? And of all people to hug, it was Marinette?

"Thank you, Chloe," Marinette whispered. She didn't specify for what, but she had a feeling the girl understood.

Chloe nodded before pulling away and wiping the imaginary dirt off her clothes. "Yeah, yeah, just because you're leaving doesn't give you the right to wrinkle my outfit and get your germs all over it." With a huff she turned her nose in the air and walked to her seat. Sabrina gave Marinette a half-smile before following her best friend.

As Marinette sat down, Mme. Bustier came in the room. Her eyes strayed to the doomed girl. She frowned, blinked the moisture in her eyes away, and cleared her throat.

"Class, please get out your homework from last night."

...

All day Marinette got various good-byes from her classmates, even from the people who she rarely talked to, like Ivan. He gave her a hug that nearly ceased her breathing from the tight way he held her.

Nathanael gave her a farewell, too. They went on a date once the previous year, but Marinette just didn't feel the spark she felt when she was with Adrien so she put a stop to future dates. Adrien was gone for about a year at that point, but her heart still longed for him.

It still did. She wondered if she'd ever be able to fully get over Adrien Agreste.

Alya stuck by her side all day, talking about various new scoops and trying to deviate from talking about Marinette's upcoming peril. She nodded and joined in the conversations as best she could.

Her best friend walked her home, and pulled her in for a tight hug before letting the girl go inside. Marinette felt the tears on her shirt, but didn't comment on them. Instead, she rubbed a hand along her back to try to console her.

"I love you, Marinette. I-please, just try to beat him. I know it's impossible but please just-"

Don't die.

"I won't," she promised, the lie slipping easily between her teeth. "I'll-I'll be okay. I love you, too."

They didn't let go for several minutes.

...

Her parents spent a good portion of the evening watching Marinette's favorite shows and movies. It was enough to distract them from the looming hour of midnight.

But all good things must come to an end. At 11:00, they shut the tv off. She hugged her father tight and they whispered farewells to each other, afterwards her mother told her she wanted to talk to her upstairs.

When she was done saying good-bye to her father she followed her mother into her room. She was waiting, sitting on the chaise. Marinette silently sat beside her.

"Marinette," the older woman began, awkwardly and uneasily. "Chat Noir may...use you."

The designer suppressed a fearful shiver, her stomach twisted in knots and she felt like gagging. The thought came across her mind during the day that he might use her for his needs, but she willed it away and plastered a smile back on her face.

"I-I know," her daughter whispered.

"It...it will be painful, I won't lie to you." Sabine drew in a harsh breath. "But...just try to sit still and endure it as best you could. If you struggle, it will hurt even more."

Marinette nodded, blue bell eyes dropping to her knees.

Sabine drew her in for a hug. "You're so brave, my Marinette. Brave, selfless, and beautiful, inside and out. Don't forget that we love you, we will always love you no matter what happens."

Marinette choked back a sob and buried her head in her mother's shoulder. "I love you, too, Maman, you and Papa."

...

At 11:50, Marinette was ready to go. She had packed her essentials in her backpack, the same one she used for school. It was filled with different spools of thread and needles, her sketchbook, her different coloring tools, and her diary.

Her hair was tied back into her classic twin tails, she chose to go in her usual outfit, choosing not to dress up. She had nothing to dress up for, this wasn't some special occasion. She'd probably be dead by morning, anyway.

It was all too soon when she heard the tapping on her glass trapdoor. Marinette didn't look up as she took a shuddering breath and reached over to turn off her bedroom light. She grabbed her phone and charger before stuffing both in her back, but noting that it was 12:00 exactly.

She wouldn't give him the pleasure of seeing her cry. She'd keep her head up and show no sign of fear.

With a sigh she opened the trapdoor. The feline villain smiled and held a hand out to her to help pull her out. With a low growl she brushed it off and got out herself.

She was going to die anyway, why not take Chloe's advice and give him hell?

Chat Noir drew back his hand with a frown, but didn't say anything about her defiance. "Are you ready to go? Got everything, said your goodbyes?"

She nodded. "Yes, I'm ready."

He grinned, a reaction that made her slightly recoil in disgust and anger.

"Let's get going."

She couldn't help but let out a surprised squeak as he grabbed her and positioned her over his back, piggyback style.

"What are you doing?!" She exclaimed in bewilderment.

"Taking you home," he replied easily. "Cars are so bad for the environment, plus this way of getting around is easier. Hold on tight!"

Marinette bit back a scream and he vaulted off the balcony and leaped to the next rooftop. Despite her fear of him, she found herself burying her face in his leather-clad shoulder to shield her from the dizzying height.

As they moved through the air, she could feel the wind blowing through her pigtails. She was tempted to open her eyes and look, but she wouldn't give in.

His back shook and she thought she heard a low chuckle, but it could've just been her imagination.

They went on, and on, and on, until they were out of the city and into a dense forest. As Chat Noir ran along the grass, Marinette chanced a peek and saw nothing but dark shadows and silhouettes of trees. She couldn't see anything ahead of Chat Noir, she wondered how he could without bumping into anything.

"Are we almost there?" She cautiously asked, preparing for a rude and malicious answer. Or perhaps none at all. She had to ask the question, she felt her arms getting more tired and didn't know how much longer she could hold on.

"We're almost there, Princess," he replied softly, reassuringly. It was a tone she wasn't expecting to hear.

Ah, that's right. Predators don't immediately go in for the kill, they play nice and sit and wait until the right moment, when they let their guard down.

She was never going to let hers down.

Just when Marinette was about to say 'screw it' and detach herself from him, he stopped.

Marinette gaped at the sight before her. It was large mansion in a clearing of the forest. Tall, big, and radiant. Several windows were lit up with light, but most were dark. Two, ivory-colored pillars that matched the rest of the mansion rose over the entrance, giving it a regal look. How could anyone not see this?

She looked up, and noticed that several trees loomed overhead, their long branches covering the top, not allowing a person overhead to easily spot it. Plus, who would look in the middle of a dense forest for Chat Noir?

He gently eased her off him, she landed on her feet and almost fell over from having not used them in a couple hours. Chat Noir offered a hand to help steady her, but she shook her head and regained her balance herself.

Her eyes returned to the looming mansion. It was magnificent. She was honestly expecting some dark cave in the middle of nowhere, or even a small, ordinary house. Not this.

No wonder why he stole all that money.

"Do you like it?" He asked suddenly, seeming anxious of her answer.

"It's beautiful," she found herself whispering truthfully.

Chat Noir beamed proudly. Marinette, realizing what she did, scowled and looked away from him and the mansion.

"Let's go inside. You have to be tired, it's about two in the morning and you had a long trip." He walked ahead of her, only stopping to peer back at her expectantly.

Marinette swallowed nervously and followed after him. Is that what his game was? Make her tired so she'd be weaker to fight against?

They walked into the foyer, with Chat Noir closing the door behind her with a soft click. She marveled at the interior, it looked straight out of a fairy tale. Or one of those rich people magazines.

It even had a chandelier, something that every rich person owns. She hated to admit it, but for a villain, he had some class.

"I'll give you the grand tour tomorrow, I'll just show you your room," he casually spoke, walking to one of the side staircases.

Her room? She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and walked behind him.

"My room?" She inquired. "I have a room?" Shouldn't he be leading her to a torture chamber or something?

He stopped and looked back to smirk at her. "Yes, you have a room. I'm not going to let you sleep on the floor." He chuckled and continued on, to the second floor and into a long hallway.

He stopped outside a large, golden-colored door.

"This is your room." He bit his lip as though he was nervous. "Mine's on the other side of the mansion...yeah, you probably don't care about that useless info." He rubbed a gloved hand on the back of his neck, the action tugging at her heart. There was something oddly familiar about the flustered move.

Without another word he opened the door, letting Marinette walk inside.

She swore her jaw hit the floor.

It was beautiful. It was a room that belonged in a castle to a princess. She stared in wonder at the high ceiling, spacious room, the fireplace in the wall across from the startlingly large bed. It was a rose gold color and rose to the ceiling. It was a canopy style, with sheer, white curtains all around it.

She spied another door, she guessed it lead to a bathroom.

Her mind could barely process all this.

"M-My room?" She stuttered, wanting a confirmation on whether or not this wonderful room could be hers. Then again, maybe he just showed her this as a joke before he dragged her down to the basement and killed her.

His cat-eyes widened. "Yes? Unless you want another room? I didn't know what you'd like, so I, uh-listen, I can get you another room, no problem!"

The blackette tilted her head at him in confusion. The terrifying Chat Noir a stuttering mess? What was going on? Why was he acting like her opinion meant the world to him?

"No, it's fine," she cut him off. "It's beautiful, really. I just can't believe I'm getting all this. It's-I'm just me, I don't...I don't deserve any of this." Her eyes flickered to the ground uneasily, her head followed suit.

Why isn't he being cruel to me?

Why isn't he killing me?

"Yes, you do," Chat Noir insisted. She snapped her head up to look at him quizzically. He grinned. "I promised that you'd be treated like a princess, and you will be. So, are you hungry? Thirsty? I can make you something if you want."

Yeah right, and be poisoned? No way. She wouldn't go down for a stupid mistake like that. Who actually eats food cooked by their captor?

"No, I'm fine."

He nodded. "Okay. Well, get comfortable, I guess. I'll see you in the morning." He gave her one last smile, green eyes sparkling, before he turned and made his way down the hallway. Marinette hurried inside and shut the door, locking it behind her, even though she knew he could easily destroy the lock if he wanted to.

The blackette heaved a sigh. She was staying with Chat Noir, she was here and she was staying in a room fit for royalty. She pinched herself to try to wake herself up, but was met with a sharp, sudden pain instead and stopped the action.

Dumping her backpack on the floor, she took her time in exploring around the room. She was shocked to find many different sets of clothing in one of the dressers. Shirts, shorts, dresses, skirts...she blushed when she found the nightgowns and panties.

Strangely, they all looked to be her size. How could he know her measurements? Unless he rifled through her clothes back home...

Her lips puckered at the creepy thought.

Curiously, she took hold of a pink, silken nightgown and held it up for inspection. It was soft to the touch, and such a beautiful color. It had spaghetti straps attached and the skirt reached to her knees.

Taking it with her, she travelled to the bed to tentatively run a hand across the sheets.

Silk, just as she suspected.

It boggled her mind that he was giving her all these expensive items. Just what was his purpose behind it? To get her to lower her guard? To blindside her?

Wait a minute. Big, silken bed, intimate nightwear...

She dropped the fabric to the ground with a terrified shudder.

He was going to take advantage of her, that was the only explanation. He wanted her to look pretty and appealing before he came back to take her, and do it on a soft bed.

A tear ran down her cheek as she trembled. She never thought she'd lose her virginity like this.

Her mother's words rang through her ears. If you struggle, it will hurt even more.

She dazedly got got of her current clothes and slipped on the nightgown. After brushing her teeth in the spacious bathroom (that she'd explore later, if there was a later) she turned off the lights (on the small chandelier on her ceiling) and went to bed.

As she lay wide awake in the blankets, her ears kept alert for any footsteps, for the sound of a lock being destroyed. Her heart pounded in terror, but she wouldn't let it show when he came in the room. She wouldn't let him know she was afraid, she'd be brave and bear it.

After awhile of silence, her eyes began to droop.

She wondered why he was taking so long. Sure, it was probably to prolong the moment and make her fear last longer, but this was getting ridiculous.

Come to think of it, this bed was really soft. Her arms and limbs glided across the smooth material of the sheets. Her head was resting on the softest, fluffiest pillow on Earth.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt if she just closed her eyes, just for a moment. She'd wake up when he came in.

When she next opened her eyes, it wasn't because of Chat Noir. Instead, an irritating light touched her eyelids.

Marinette groggily awoke. She raised her hands to her eyelids to try to wipe the sleep from them.

Hm, that's funny. Usually her alarm woke her up.

She jolted upright in the bed. She was late for school!

Wait. Her eyes took in the large room. She looked down at the silken sheets and the nightgown she was currently wearing.

That's right. She didn't go to school anymore. She was staying with Chat Noir as a sacrifice for Paris's peace.

And...Marinette's lips twisted as she shuffled her lower torso around.

She didn't hear him come in last night. Did he do the job without waking her up? She suspected to feel somehow different after losing her virginity, but felt no change at all.

She picked up the covers to inspect underneath. She knew when a girl had sex for the first time they bleed, but no spot of blood was on the bed.

Did he...did he really not touch her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marinette's bed can be found here: img.archiexpo images_ae/photo-g/57656-2239369.jpg


	3. Chapter 3

It didn't make sense. So he didn't want to use her like that? He just wanted to straight up kill her, huh? Well, at least he's somewhat merciful.

Marinette rose out of bed and padded over to her backpack. Taking out her phone, she noted that it was 11 am. She couldn't remember the last time she was able to sleep in so late, what with school and helping out in the bakery. She was always out of bed by 9, 9:30 at the latest.

And, to tell the truth, she couldn't remember the last time she had such a comfortable sleep. The bed was so soft, mushy and comfortable, and the nightgown felt like liquid on her skin.

Turning, she went to find a power outlet to charge her phone (though for what, she didn't know, since there wasn't any service out here) but stopped when she spotted something she missed last night.

It was easy to miss when it was covered by night's cloak, but in the daylight, she could clearly see the large balcony outside the glass doors. Curiously, she walked across the room and opened one of the doors.

Cell phone still in hand, she walked onto the spacious balcony. It was empty for the most part, save a single pink lounge chair, but it was still magnificent.

It would be perfect for growing many plants-

No. I'm going to die, remember? Don't get your hopes up, now.

She sighed and made her way back inside, shutting the glass door behind her with a soft click. She was able to find a power outlet and successfully let her phone charge.

She didn't want to go outside yet, so she ventured into the bathroom. She didn't get a chance to look around last night in her haste to get to bed, but now she had some time to explore.

Marinette gawked at the luxuriousness of the bathroom. Not only was it overly spacious, but it looked like it was something she could only find in magazines. There was even a hot tub in there, a hot tub!

To her right was a walk-in shower with clear doors, and a bench inside. Curious, she opened one of the doors and looked around. It didn't look like her shower at home...

Her heart leapt in her throat.

This was one of the showers that had colored lights, and due to those lights, would make it look like the water was a certain color! She had only seen these online and could only dream of having a shower like this.

The designer nervously bit her lip, glancing between the open bathroom door, into her bedroom, back to the shower. She hadn't heard footsteps at all during this time...maybe...

With a determined grin she went around the bathroom looking for shampoo and soap. Because who has a shower in a room without shampoo?

When she came to a linen closet, she tore it open was shocked to say the least at her discovery.

Tons of pink, fluffy towels and washcloths. Multiple different shampoos and soaps with various scents. Lotions and oils, even razors and creams. She flushed when she spotted the many packages of feminine products.

Did he think of everything?

She reached in and grabbed a strawberry scented shampoo, the same flavor soap, along with a towel, washcloth, and a razor and cream.

...

She may, or may not, have had the most fun shower in her life.

She may, or may not, have played with all the different buttons, letting the water spray out in different colors.

It also may, or may not, have been the most soothing shower experience she ever had. She swore she never felt so fresh.

After finding some casual clothes in one of the dressers and getting dressed, she went to work on putting the strengthening oil in her hair then drying it. Afterwards she fixed it into her signature twin tails style and brushed her teeth.

Now, it was the moment of truth.

She stood outside the door, where it had been quiet all throughout her process of getting ready. Should she go out, or stay in here where it was relatively safe?

Her stomach growled.

Marinette frowned. Hopefully she could sneak to the kitchen (wherever it was), grab something, then run back here? Yeah, that sounded like a good plan. Who knows, maybe Chat Noir is a heavy sleeper and hasn't even woken up yet.

Slowly, she opened the door and poked her head out into the hallway. Looking around, she observed that it was abandoned.

She took the chance and stepped out, quietly shutting the door behind her. She took care to make sure her footfalls didn't generate any noise as she walked down the hallway. She made it out, and, after making sure no one was around, walked into the foyer.

Walking down the staircase, she looked around, wondering where the kitchen might be.

"Right or left," she mumbled to herself.

A few more seconds of pondering later, she went with 'right'.

She still made sure to keep her footsteps as quiet as possible, just in case her captor was around somewhere. The first room she came upon was a living room, with a huge television on the wall and plush, leather couches.

Taking a quick survey of it, she pressed on to her original destination.

Next, was a dining room, with a rather large dining table for only one person. Twelve cushioned chairs lined around mahogany table, a small chandelier dangled from above. Come to think of it, it would actually make a romantic dining atmosphere.

Shaking off that thought, she proceeded through and smiled when she realized she walked into the kitchen.

It dropped when she saw who was in front of the stove.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to get up," he spoke smoothly without turning around. "You're just in time for lunch."

Marinette's heart pounded in fear as Chat Noir inclined his head to flash her a grin. She couldn't move from her rooted spot on the tiled floor, her hands were clenched into tight fists.

He acted as if nothing was wrong. "Grilled cheese?" He asked, holding out the pan towards her, which held two, almost fully cooked grilled cheeses.

She bit her lip. "Um-"

"If you want something else, that's fine." He replaced the pan on the stove and fully turned around to face her. "What would you like?"

Nothing cooked by you! "Um, actually, I can make it myself..."

He clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Princess, you're not going to lift a finger when you're here."

She blinked, taken aback by that response. "No, really, I can cook myself."

He tilted his head, those green cat eyes seemed to bore into her. His mouth was in a pensive frown, until it lifted into an amused smirk.

"Oh, I get it. You think I'm going to poison you, don't you?"

Her sapphire eyes enlarged at his ability to seemingly read her mind. She didn't confirm, or deny his observation.

"I'm not going to hurt you, cat's honor." He placed a hand over his heart while lifting his other in the air, a teasing grin played on his lips.

She didn't get it. Where was the cruelty? When was he going to kill her? How long was he going to make these empty promises?

Although, maybe being poisoned wouldn't be so bad. It had to be a better death than his cataclysm, anyway.

Marinette nodded. "Okay. I'll have the grilled cheese, I guess."

Chat Noir smiled warmly, looking like he just achieved something great. It was probably because he was excited he finally managed to gain her trust, something that couldn't be further from the truth.

"Good choice, Princess. They're almost done, anyway." He turned back to the stove and picked up a spatula, then swiftly placed each sandwich on two plates she hadn't noticed until then.

Picking up both plates in his hand, he smiled as he walked around her to set them on a glass-bottom table off to their left. He left to walk to a cupboard and got out two glasses.

"What do you want to drink?" He asked, pausing in front of the refrigerator.

"Iced tea would be nice," she mumbled. She could still hardly believe what was happening. The most terrifying villain in all of France cooking for her, almost waiting on her hand and foot. Purely unbelievable. Why would he do all this?

"Okay."

He got out their respective drinks and poured them into the glasses. While walking back to the small table, he gestured for her to sit down. There were only two chairs, one at each end, so she was sitting directly across from him.

Her eyes wandered from Chat Noir, to her lunch, then back to him. This was still hard to process. So far he hadn't made a move to kill her.

"How was your sleep?" He inquired casually, taking a bite of his grilled cheese.

She couldn't resist the biting response. He may kill her, but she still planned on giving him hell, even if she may be afraid of him. "Good, considering I'm never going to see my friends or family again."

His eyes narrowed and a corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk. "That's good to hear."

Her temper was beginning to flare at his blatant teasing. She took a bite of her grilled cheese, forgetting about her earlier worry of it being poisoned.

He seemed to smirk wider at that. She wanted to smack it off his stupid face.

"I'm glad you lost your stutter, Princess," he remarked before sipping from his drink and returning to his lunch.

Marinette blinked in confusion. Stutter? She never had a stutter? What was he on about?

"So," he continued, looking back up at her. "Is your room okay? Got everything you need?"

She nodded, still in wonder about his previous comment. "Yeah, it's fine."

He smiled. "I'm glad you like it. I take it your clothes are okay, too?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Yeah. They're the perfect size..."

Chat Noir grinned, revealing a row of perfect, white teeth. "What can I say? I have an excellent eye for measurements." He winked and took another bite of his lunch.

Marinette picked up hers and took a bite also, noting that if it was poisoned, she'd surely would've been dead by now, so there was no harm in finishing the grilled cheese.

With one more bite, his sandwich was gone. He proceeded to down the rest of his milk before returning his gaze to her. "After you're done, I'd like to show you around. Don't rush, though, we have all the time in the world." He smiled before rising up from his chair and taking his dishware to the dishwasher.

Marinette didn't have that much left, so she downed the rest of the contents. She was about to take her dishware away when Chat Noir sneaked up on her and took them out of her hands. She quirked an eyebrow at the gesture while he merely grinned and took care of the dishes.

...

He showed her around the entire mansion, even the giant, indoor pool. Each room they went to, he allowed her time to take it all in, patiently waiting for her to continue on.

He was being the perfect gentleman, completely nice. She didn't understand it. Why was a villain being nice to her? Back when he was a hero, he was caring and kind, as she could tell from various interviews. But ever since he turned his back on Paris, he's been mocking, rude, and cocky.

So what did she do to warrant his old attitude? What was so special about her? And why did he even want her in the first place?

"Here we go, the last one," Chat Noir introduced outside an ordinary-looking door. It was on the third level of the mansion, near the library.

He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. Again, the achingly-familiar action tugged at her heart. Just where did she see it before?

"It's actually for you."

She tilted her head. For her?

Without elaborating any further, he opened the door and watched her closely, ready to gauge her reaction.

Her jaw dropped as she took in the room. The walls were a light pink color, illuminated by the large window letting sunlight in. Different fabrics of multiple colors lined the walls, her fingers twitched at wanting to feel them.

In a cubby, there were various sewing supplies, but the thing that made her smile most was the amount of sketchbooks, eagerly awaiting her designs.

A few dressmaker dummies were scattered about the room, completely bare, but she knew they could be wearing outfits all in due time.

And last, but not least, was a desk with a single, plush chair in front of it. On top of the desk, lay a pearl pink sewing machine.

It was the sewing room of her dreams.

"You're still into designing, right?" Chat Noir questioned, uneasily. "It's okay if you're not, I won't be mad."

Marinette was too surprised to absorb the small detail that he said 'still'. She slowly turned to him, a tear sliding down her cheek.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" She whispered brokenly.

Chat Noir blinked, clearly thrown at her question. "What-"

More tears escaped past her dulled blue eyes. "Why are you being so kind to me? Why aren't you killing me? Just kill me already and stop torturing me like this!"

His ears drooped at her sorrow, hurt feelings taking over his heart. She was still afraid of him, and thought all this was some sick joke. She really thought he was going to hurt her.

Marinette felt two, leather-covered hands encase her cheeks. She flinched at the contact, but they didn't go away. Opening her eyes, she met Chat Noir's pained emerald green orbs.

"Marinette, I swear to you I'm not going to hurt you. I care about you too much to even think of such a thing."

She suppressed a gasp as her eyes widened at his words. He cared about her? Why would he care about someone he just met?

"You have nothing to worry about here. You're safe, you don't need to be afraid of me. All of this is for real, everything is yours. I promise you, I swear on my life, I'm not going to hurt you."

She sniffled, blinking away her tears. "What about your cataclysm?"

"I'd never use it on you."

"But what if you accidentally use it?" Her eyes wandered down to his right hand that was laying on her left cheek.

His lips twitched and broke out into a laugh. Marinette watched, a bit annoyed at the reaction.

He calmed down enough to give her an easy smile. "It doesn't just randomly go off, I have to summon it to use it. And I would never use it on you, Princess. You have absolutely nothing to worry about."

She considered him, looking at her with hurt, combined with worry and hope. Hope, that she would believe him.

Chat Noir was a villain. Could she trust him?

He did look and sound sincere, and hadn't made any sort of threatening move on her. If he wanted to, he could quietly summon cataclysm and turn her into ash right now, but he didn't.

Her eyes flickered from his own, to the floor, then back.

Alya always said she was too nice for her own good. Marinette silently hoped that she wouldn't regret this.

"I believe you."


	4. Chapter 4

_Dear Diary,_

_Chat Noir showed me around the mansion today. He's being so nice to me...I can't help but wonder why. He's a supervillain, aren't they supposed to not care about other people? Although, he was a hero once. Maybe he still cares, if just a little bit. He made me breakfast today, gave me my own sewing room, not to mention all the other necessities that are here. What did I do to deserve his kindness? What did I do to be here in the first place? I want to ask, but I'm afraid he'll get mad and hurt me or something. Even though he swore he wouldn't. I believe him, to a degree. I won't trust him completely, I'll still be cautious of him. But I think I can relax a little bit. He doesn't seem to be in a violent mood as of now._

_I miss my parents, I miss my friends...I even miss Chloe. How long will I be here? Hopefully he'll eventually get bored of me and bring me back. But if I was brought back, wouldn't that mean the deal would be broken and he could attack Paris again? In that case, I hope he doesn't get bored of me._

_I'm confused and still a bit scared. I don't know what to do. Hopefully tomorrow will bring some answers._

_Love always,_

_Marinette_

She put down her pen and studied her entry. Nodding once, she left it alone.

So many memories in this little book. Wanting a taste of home and her old life, she flipped back so many pages to read old entries.

_Dear Diary,_

_Oh my God! I just had the best day ever! Gabriel Agreste held a hat design competition today, and Adrien is going to wear it in the show! And guess whose design won? Mine! But that's not even the best part. Adrien saw some of my designs today, but he thought they were Alya's. After that was cleared up, he said I was super talented and had a good chance of winning! Adrien thinks I'm talented! I was smiling for the rest of the day! Even when this weird pigeon akuma attacked. But don't worry, Chat Noir saved us, as usual. Thank God we have him to protect us._

Marinette couldn't help but snort at that.

_I actually made my hat using a pigeon feather. But when Adrien tried it on, he sneezed! Turns out he's allergic to feathers! Just my luck I make something and he's allergic to it. But he wasn't mean about it at all, he even apologized for sneezing and said I shouldn't feel bad about it. He's so kind, thoughtful, wonderful, and many other words I've written before. I hope Adrien could like me someday, that he'll see me as someone more than clumsy, plain Marinette._

_I better get going, it's getting late. I'll write tomorrow._

_Love always,_

_Marinette._

A corner of the designer's lip turned up into a bitter grin. She fought the growing tears threatening to spill. Past Marinette had no clue of what the future could bring, everything was so simple then. She was just a girl dreaming big who was in love with her classmate and didn't have to worry about being a sacrifice for peace, or living with a potentially dangerous supervillain.

She flipped ahead.

_Dear Diary,_

_I don't know what's going on. Chat Noir just robbed a bank! He's a superhero, why would he do that? No one knows what caused him to do this, he didn't bother elaborating why._

_Worse, Adrien has gone missing. No one has seen him since yesterday after school. Did Chat Noir take him? But why? Is Adrien okay?_

_I have to find him. I will find Adrien._

...

_Dear Diary,_

_I went out last night to see if I could find Adrien. Nothing turned up. At one point I thought I heard footsteps, then the next thing I know I hear a terrified scream. I didn't waste time and ran down the street back towards my house. Obviously I made it, since I'm writing to you, but I'm still shaken about it._

_A man was shown on the news today. He's in critical condition at a hospital, looking like he was attacked by a wild animal, perhaps a cat of some kind. But what cat capable of that kind of damage lives in a city like this and isn't in a zoo? The man will be forever scarred on his face, the attacker left four claw marks on it._

_Is it possible that I heard him scream last night? I could've helped. Although, if it was some kind of animal, what kind of help would I be? Still, I wish I did something._

...

_Dear Dairy,_

_It happened again. I was looking for Adrien, and I heard footsteps again. I turned, either to face a creeper or dare I believe it, Adrien himself, but all I found was air. I heard a scream not two seconds later. I took off, scared of the possible animal._

_Another man was shown on the news today, having the same injuries as the previous victim. It's believed that a wild animal is somewhere loose in Paris and police vowed to catch it. Tonight will be the last night to go out and look for Adrien._

...

_Dear Diary,_

_Nothing. No trace of him. Everyone is starting to lose hope. I'm really getting worried. What if he's lost? Hurt? Starving? Or_

_I won't consider that possibility._

_Last night it was the same routine, only creepier. I heard footsteps, only this time they were much closer. Someone was following me. I tried to walk faster, but they easily gained up on me. Just when I was considering turning around and kicking them where the sun don't shine, I heard a scream and the footsteps vanished. But this time I heard the animal. I heard it hissing. An angry, horrifying hiss. My blood ran cold and I couldn't move. Would it get me too?_

_I was frozen, perfect for cat food or 'whatever kind of animal this was' food. But it didn't bother me. I didn't even see it. I made it home completely unscathed._

_I'm not going to look for Adrien anymore. It's too dangerous, and I haven't found a single clue._

_I miss him so much. I miss his warm smiles, his sparkling emerald eyes, the way he listened to my pathetic, mostly incoherent babbling and act like nothing was wrong, how he tried to get me more comfortable by contributing more to the conversation and being completely patient with me. How he'd make me feel important, how he believed that I would accomplish all my dreams._

_I miss him so much. Please, please God bring him back._

A tear fell on the page, next to the long, dried one. She flipped a few pages, wanting to get rid of the haunting words.

_Dear Diary,_

_Adrien has been gone for a year now. Police have abandoned the case. No one believes he'll come back, that it's a lost and tragic cause._

_I haven't lost hope before, but I can't help but lose it now. It's been a full year, with no hint of Adrien at all. I have to face the fact that he's gone and never coming back._

_I still love him. Isn't that funny? Being in love with a dead man?_

Marinette grabbed a tissue on her dresser and wiped her eyes with it. She closed the diary and set it back in the drawer of her desk, making sure to lock the precious book.

She couldn't help but wonder if Chat Noir was involved with Adrien's disappearance. Granted, there was no solid evidence to support this theory, but...

That's just it.

But.

But anyone could've kidnapped and/or killed him. But who would do that? Adrien was beloved by all who knew him, as either a model or a friend. She couldn't guess as to why someone would target him.

She huffed noncommittally. It didn't really matter anymore, she supposed. He's gone, and he's not coming back. She stood from her chair and walked to turn the light off for bed.

...

"She's still scared of you."

Adrien frowned at his kwami before pulling on a white sleep shirt. He wiped the stray locks of golden hair out of his eyes before facing Plagg again.

The little chaos god sat on his master's pillow, munching on camembert.

"She said she believes I won't hurt her," Adrien countered. He moved to the bed and sat on the side of it.

Plagg scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Probably because she was worried what would happen if she said she didn't believe you. How could she not be scared of you? You're a supervillain that can destroy anything you touch. I don't blame her for being afraid of you."

The blond growled at the kwami's opinion. "I haven't made any sort of threatening move on her. I've given her everything she could ever want. She shouldn't be afraid of me."

Plagg paused before taking another bite of his meal. "Well, there's the fact that Chat Noir and Marinette never talked to each other before, and then he says that he wants her in exchange for peace? I'd be wary if I were her."

Adrien bit his lip nervously and ran a hand along the back of his neck. "I panicked, okay? The offer was made, and she was in the crowd, so I just-"

"Just ruined a civilian's life. Great job, Adrien."

The former hero's green eyes shied away from Plagg. "I didn't ruin her life," he mumbled.

"Well," Plagg stopped speaking to swallow his latest bite of cheese, "let's see. She's about 18 now, so she would've been graduating soon. Then after that she would've gone to college. After that she would've gotten the designing job of her dreams, meet the man of her dreams, and live happily ever after. But you got in the way of that."

Adrien couldn't help but bristle at the thought of any other man being with Marinette. He had a huge crush on her in high school, but was too insecure to say anything about it. Besides, she always acted so jittery around him, it was clear as day that she wasn't comfortable with his presence. Who would confess to a girl that obviously didn't like them back?

His feelings for her lessened throughout the years of his new villainy. He tried to let her go, to leave her behind just as he left Adrien.

But at first it wasn't that easy. For some reason, she went out walking around at night, completely alone. He wanted to yell at her for being so careless, grab her by the shoulders and scold her for not thinking, and then push her against a wall and kiss her senseless.

He thought about doing that last one, but every time he chickened out.

He remembered she went out for three nights. In those nights she'd be followed by various people, people that he sent to the hospital for their injuries. He had laughed when he saw the news stories, they said they believe some wild animal was lurking in Paris's streets, a cat of some kind.

Well, they weren't that far off.

He still had feelings for her, thought they weren't as strong as they were in high school, on that day the offer was made. When the Mayor offered him anything in return for leaving Paris alone, his eyes wandered around the crowd as he thought of an idea.

His feelings returned in full force when he laid eyes on her. She had matured into a beautiful woman, with slender curves and long, inky hair that shown blue in the sunlight. He had forgotten just how deep her eyes really were, and how they were such a vibrant blue. Her pink lips were full and formed a perfect pout that tempted him to take her right then and there.

New desire welled inside him. He wanted her, and he had to have her.

It was this desire that clouded his judgement as he said he wanted her in return for Paris's peace. In the end, though, he didn't regret it. He already had everything he ever wanted, except her.

And maybe something else...

Adrien squeezed hit eyes shut. No, he wouldn't think about that bastard.

Meanwhile, Plagg hadn't said a word all throughout Adrien's silent musings. He quietly finished his cheese and zipped off to his own small bed, yawning before his head hit the pillow.

The blond frowned and laid on his bed, eyes trained on the ceiling above him.

Plagg was right, she was probably still scared of him. So he had to double his efforts to assure her that he wasn't going to hurt her. She'd be treated like a princess, like how she always should've been treated.

He knew it was practically a lost cause, yet he hoped that she could fall in love with him in the future. It would be the luckiest thing that could've happened to him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the reviews, kudos, hits, and bookmarks readers :)

Marinette awoke the next morning to the same scene as before: Chat Noir standing in front of a stove cooking lunch. She could smell the curry chicken in the air and couldn't help the longing sigh that escaped past her lips.

Chat Noir turned around at that, smiling as he took her in. "Hungry?"

Marinette's cheeks tinted pink when she realized she was caught. She looked away from him to the wall on her right. "Kind of."

"Good, 'cause lunch is ready." He smiled before turning around again and turning the oven off. He invited her to sit down as he got out the necessary dishware for their meal.

Despite her belief that he wouldn't hurt her, her doubts couldn't just vanish in a single night. He was still a villain, whether or not he pampered her. Besides, there was still the nagging question of why he even wanted her here in the first place. Maybe she could ask it at a later date, when she was positive he wouldn't touch her.

He sat the quiche in front of her before setting down his own. He retreated to the opposite end of the table and smiled warmly at her.

"How was your sleep?"

Marinette forced herself to meet his eyes. "Good."

"That's good. Just so you know, I'm going out later today to get more supplies. You won't be locked in or anything, you can go outside if you want. You can even leave if you want."

The blackette put down her quiche and stared at him in surprise. She could leave? At any time? But-

Chat Noir grinned at her expression. "Yes, you're free to leave anytime you want. You're not a captive, you're here of your own free will. However, if you do leave, then the deal with Paris will be broken. Seems fair, doesn't it?"

She glowered. She knew it was technically fair, but she hated it.

He snickered and took a bite of his lunch, letting Marinette think and once the thought came to her, she arched a suspicious eyebrow.

"You said you're going out to get supplies?"

"I did."

"Where are you getting them?"

Chat Noir smirked as he got where she was going with her questioning. "Paris isn't the only city in France, Princess."

She backed down at that response, sinking a bit deeper in her seat.

"What?" He pressed, still smirking. "Did you think I would back out of our deal? Just like that? Don't you think I have a little bit of honor left in me?"

She supposed he did, since he didn't kill her, but she resolved to stay silent and not give in to his taunting. She took a bite of her quiche and drank some of her iced tea.

"Apparently not enough to warrant a response," he mumbled and chuckled. The two resumed eating as normal and when they were done, Chat Noir once again took care of the dishes. It still felt weird, having someone do practically everything for her, but Marinette shrugged it off as best she could.

As she was about to climb the staircase to go to her new sewing room and test it out, Chat Noir called out to her.

"I'm leaving now, I'll be back around midnight. See you then." He turned around, putting out a foot to walk, when he stopped and craned his head back to gaze at her.

He grinned. "Maybe."

Marinette screwed her lips into an irritated pout as the stupid cat strolled away without a care in the world. He opened the front door, walked through, and it shut behind him. She noticed she didn't hear the click of a lock.

That mangy alley cat, baiting her and telling her she can leave, but knowing that she wouldn't else he terrorize Paris again.

Still, it's been awhile since she's received some fresh air. And a walk through the woods sounded very relaxing. She took her time to the sewing room to get a sketchbook and pencils, then went to her room for her backpack. Stuffing the items inside, she tugged on the backpack and made to the foyer.

When Marinette went outside, she looked around, expecting the cat to be grinning at her from behind a bush, or peering down at her from a high tree branch. But none of those things happened, all she heard were the sounds of various bugs and the wind rustling through the leaves.

She walked around the back of the mansion and kept going, maintaining a strict, straight path so she wouldn't have trouble getting back. Come to think of it, maybe she should've brought something to mark her trail, like a knife to carve in the passing tree trunks.

She'd be fine. All she had to do was walk straight back and she'd be back at the mansion.

She continued on, until she made it to a small clearing with a stream running through. Deciding this was a good spot, she set down her backpack and sat by the edge of the water.

With a faint smile on her lips, she took off her flats and dipped her feet into the cool water. She shivered at the contact, but soon settled down and allowed herself to relax.

This area was so relaxing, and perfect for getting inspiration. However, for now, she just wanted to lean her head back and bask in the peacefulness.

"Hello there."

Marinette shrieked. Her eyes flew open and her head darted to the right to see an old man, wearing a red Hawaiian shirt with white flowers on it. He sported a cane and wore a small smile.

The young designer sat still, eyes wide as she regarded him. Was he some type of killer? Although, he certainly didn't look the part. Then again, Chat Noir looked like a superhero and that couldn't be further from reality.

"Do not be afraid, young one." The old man smiled, his gray mustache moving as he did so. "I do not mean you any harm."

She blinked, still suspicious of his intentions. "Wh-What are you doing here in the middle of the woods?"

He grinned. "What are you doing here in the middle of the woods?"

Hm. He had a point. It was possible he wasn't expecting anybody either and just wanted some peace. But as far as she knew, there was forest for miles with Chat Noir's house being the only kind of living quarters nearby. He must've taken a long hike to get here.

"I-I came for some peace and inspiration," she answered honestly.

He nodded. "I can see why. Living with Chat Noir must be very tiresome, no?"

She wasn't surprised at his knowledge of her current state, her story must have been on all the news channels and in all the newspapers in France.

"It-" What was she supposed to say? That it wasn't all that bad? He could've treated her far worse than she expected, yet she virtually received everything a girl could want. "It...It's okay."

The man hummed and sat down beside her. He took off his shoes and dipped his feet in the cool water as well.

"He's at least threatened you, no? He is a supervillain after all."

Marinette shook her head. "No, he hasn't. He's actually done the opposite."

He nodded and hummed again. "And what is the opposite?"

"He...he promised that he wouldn't hurt me." A bemused chuckle escaped her. "He's trying so hard to convince me that he won't hurt me."

"Do you believe him?"

She paused. In the back of her mind, she wondered why she was sharing all these details to a random old man in the woods. She supposed it was due to his trustworthy and kind appearance.

"To be honest...not really. I mean, you said so yourself, he's a supervillain. It's hard to trust him."

The old man bobbed his head in understanding. "That is true. So, what did you do to be here?"

"I don't even know. I was standing in the crowd and then he just picks me! I never even met him in my life!"

The old man tilted his head, questions swirling in his wise brown eyes. "Are you sure about that? Maybe you've met him once before?"

Marinette shook her head again in refusal. "No. I've only seen him on tv. I've never actually faced him until now."

"That is peculiar, indeed. Why would a stranger pick another stranger to live with them? It doesn't make any sense."

Her eyebrows drew forward. "Are you saying we might have met before?"

"It's a possibility, no?"

"No, it's not. I've never met Chat Noir in my life."

"Maybe you've met the person beneath the mask?"

Marinette faltered, her thoughts screeching to a halt. No, there was no way she knew a superhero-turned-supervillain. She would've known, would've picked up on it from the people around her. No one could be that good at hiding a secret like that. Besides, wouldn't he have mentioned it to her in some way?

"No, I'm confidant to say that I've never met any side of Chat Noir."

Once again, he nodded. "I see. This is a very strange situation. So, you're out of his clutches. Why aren't you running back home?"

She bent her head lower to look back at the water. "I can't. If I leave, the deal will be broken and he'll wreak havoc on Paris."

"You must care about your city very much. Coming with him here, away from everything you've ever known, just to honor a deal that he won't bother your people again."

"I do. I may not know everyone in Paris, but they're...they're my family. I feel that I should protect them."

He gazed away from her with a pensive expression on his face. "Then why haven't you killed Chat Noir? You have the perfect opportunity for it, Paris would be thankful for your heroic deed."

She whipped her head to him in astonishment. How could he suggest something like that so casually, without even looking at her?

"Because murder isn't the answer! Heroes don't kill people, they reason and talk things out. They only hurt if it's absolutely necessary. Chat Noir was a good guy once, maybe he can be that way again."

This time when he looked at her, it felt like he was looking deep down into her soul. It was a little chilling, to say the least. She squirmed, uncomfortable under the sharp, knowing gaze, prompting her to look back at the trickling stream.

"I see. Well, I must be going. I feel that I'm about to be very busy. Have a good day, Miss."

But when she turned her head back to bid him good-bye, he was already gone.

Did she just imagine the whole thing? Was her brain that desperate for someone to talk to besides Chat Noir that it conjured up a whole new person?

Not feeling much like designing, she slipped her flats back on and grabbed her backpack to go back to the mansion.

...

By the time she made it back, it was dusk. Good thing she left when she did, otherwise she would've had to try to find her way back in the dark. Surely she would've gotten lost, and she'd have no way to get back. That is, of course, Chat Noir cared enough to go searching through the woods to find her.

This thought brought about a scoffing laugh. Yeah right, like he cared enough to go on a manhunt in the woods for her should she need rescuing.

Marinette still had plenty of time left to herself until he would return. She used this time to explore the mansion more properly, taking as much time in each room as she pleased without feeling green cat-eyes boring into her back.

Eventually, she came upon the only door which she hasn't opened, not even with Chat Noir. It was on the other side of the mansion directly opposite to her room.

Figuring it wouldn't hurt, she twisted the door knob and opened the door. It was dark inside, causing her to turn on the light switch.

She lightly gasped as she eyed the dark bed, walls, and dressers. This had to be her companion's room.

She shouldn't, she shouldn't go in and look around. She should just turn around, shut the door, and continue on her way.

Marinette bit her lip.

Well, she turned around. She shut the door. But she didn't continue on her way. She couldn't help but be curious, she was in a villain's room, after all. Honestly, she was expecting his room to be like a torture chamber like in the movies and cartoons. This was just a tad disappointing.

She couldn't resist looking around. There were no pictures anywhere, nothing to tell if he even had friends or family. The dressers only housed the usual necessities, like an alarm clock, brush, comb, cologne.

The designer snorted in amusement at this. What would he wear this for? She pitied the poor girl who he most likely bought it for and tried to attract her with.

Still...

She picked it up and removed the cap. She dragged her nose to the tip of the spray end and took a sniff.

Her eyes widened as a blush developed over her cheeks. Damn, that stuff smelled good. She was positive that if Adrien ever wore this she would've been a pile of goo.

Screwing the cap back on, she set it down and only then did she notice the brand.

He had a bottle of the most expensive cologne in the world. How could he afford-

Oh. Yeah. Right.

She kept going around until she came across another dresser, this time with a small box on it. Ever so curious, she lifted the lid and tilted her head when she observed what was inside.

It looked to be a brooch of some kind, shaped like a butterfly. The wings were a purplish-silver and the sparkling, gem in the middle was a deep, rich purple.

She never saw him wearing this before. It must have been a steal of some kind.

Her stomach growled.

And right now, she supposed she needed to steal some food to satisfy her stomach.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't believe I forgot to mention this -.- But Chat can do however many cataclysms he wants when transformed. He still has to feed Plagg though. Also, he can purify akumas by cataclysm-ing the evil out of them. But only Ladybug would be able to heal any damage done.

It was one in the morning by the time Chat Noir returned. He traveled a long way to and from, and was now itching to release his transformation and just relax. But he knew he couldn't, not until he was in the safety of his room.

He blinked tiredly as he went to the darkened kitchen and retrieved a wheel of camembert for Plagg after dropping the food he had stolen on the table. He could he put the stuff away in the morning. Yawning, he resumed the trek to his room.

Only stopping at the point where he could either turn left and go to Marinette's, or turn right to go to his.

Was she still here? Or did she run away from him and break their deal?

Curious to know, he quietly walked to the her room, his feet padding noiselessly on the carpet. The hallway was completely silent and covered in darkness. Good thing he had his night vision to assist him.

He paused in front of the large, oak door. Not a shred of light peeked out of the bottom crack.

He raised a gloved hand to the doorknob and slowly turned it, opening the door and stepping half-way into the room.

A corner of his mouth quirked up in a soft smile.

There she was, sound asleep in her bed. The covers were up to her neck, black hair lay piled off to the side of the pillow and a bit of her hand was out of the covers.

He tilted his head in concern. Was she cold to be so bundled up like that?

He put down the plate of camembert on the floor and walked inside her room. As quietly as possible, he slowly opened the chest at the foot of her bed, revealing blankets of various lengths, widths, and materials.

Picking a fleece one, he opened it up and spread it out on the bed. Marinette didn't stir at all, instead still deeply sleeping and oblivious to what was going on.

Chat observed the sleeping beauty with a fond smile. Not able to resist, he bent his head and planted a kiss to her temple, being sure not to press hard enough to rouse her.

Retreating back, he picked up the plate of camembert and left.

...

_Marinette held her breath as she watched Chat Noir get flung into a random building by the newest akuma. This one called herself Bullie, a girl who most likely was being bullied in school who finally snapped and allowed Hawk Moth to turn her into an akuma._

_The designer felt terrible for her struggles, but this akuma needed to be defeated, and fast._

_She was tall and muscular, her main power being strength. She pushed civilians and sometimes threw them out of her way, not caring who she hurt. It was only a few minutes until Chat Noir came upon the scene and tried to obtain the akumatized object._

_Marinette deduced it was the backpack on her back. It was a deep purple and almost seemed to glow. She nervously watched Chat Noir stagger back to the akuma, hunched over and looking aggravated._

_Alya watched anxiously from her place on the couch in Marinette's living room. Her parents forbade the girls to go outside during the akuma attack, leaving Alya having to get the details from the semi-reliable news. She would often shout complaints to the tv, to move the camera this way and that to get the perfect angles._

_Chat Noir gripped his baton and pounced, only for the akuma to grab the weapon with one hand and hold him by the throat with another. The blond's eyes widened and he began to choke._

_"Someone help him!" She yelled to the tv._

_"Yeah, seriously, these people are useless," Alya agreed sourly, crossing her arms together._

_Luckily, Chat Noir regained his bearings and miraculously flipped Bullie over his shoulder, the action releasing him from her hold. He picked up the discarded staff from the ground and walked over, taking advantage of her stunned body and grabbed the backpack._

_He ripped it in half, something Marinette didn't have enough strength for but it seemed to be no problem for the superhero. As the two parts fell to the ground, a little black butterfly fluttered out and into the sky._

_Chat Noir jumped up and snatched it, holding it in his palms. He muttered something that the news camera didn't pick up and opened his hands. This time a white butterfly flew out, with Chat Noir giving it a two-finger salute in parting._

_Bullie regained her original form, a girl that looked to be about Marinette's age with red hair in a ponytail and glasses. She timidly looked around, and upon seeing the feline hero, squeaked and cowered into her hands. Her body started to tremble as she cried in shame and embarrassment._

_The best friends' hearts broke for the poor girl. They hoped whoever bullied her felt extremely sorry for what they caused._

_Chat Noir frowned and bent down to the girl, muttering something that again the camera didn't pick up. The girl nodded and raised her head, wiping off her tears with her shirt sleeve. A small smile rose to her lips directed at the hero._

_That's when the reporters started to swarm. As a paramedic ran to the girl and took her away to tend to any possible injuries, Chat Noir had his face stuffed with microphones._

_The boy made a heart-stopping grin as he rested his fists on his hips in a classic superhero pose. Marinette rolled her eyes at his antics, but was truly thankful for his presence in the world. Paris would've been destroyed at Hawk Moth's hands if it wasn't for him._

_"Wish I was there," Alya pouted._

_Marinette giggled. Of course she'd want to be in the face of danger. "I don't."_

_"How are we even friends?" Alya teased with a smirk. She turned back to the tv and both girls watched Chat Noir answer various questions._

_"Yes, I'm okay. Just another day saved."_

_"I think she got akumatized because of bullies in her school. Speaking of which, if the bullies are watching this, stop. It's not cool, and you could've caused someone to be seriously hurt today."_

_"No, I'm still not sure where Hawk Moth is, but be rest assured that I will find him."_

_"A girlfriend? Getting personal there, huh?"_

_"..."_

_"No, I don't."_

_"Well, there is a girl I've got my eye on, if you guys really want to know."_

_"No, she doesn't know. Now if that's all the kind of questions you have, then I'll be taking my leave."_

_"Did you hear that?!" Alya screeched to Marinette, causing the girl to flinch. "There's a girl he likes!"_

_"So?" Marinette questioned. It wasn't unusual for a boy to be interested in a girl. Who cares?_

_"So? So?! So this means I have to find her!" Alya squealed excitedly. "Can you imagine if I got the scoop on Chat Noir's love life? I'll be the best reporter in the city!"_

_"I don't know, he doesn't seem to want to share any details about this mystery girl."_

_"He has to say something, sometime!" Alya crowed, determined. "And I'll be the reporter who he tells it to! And then, using my brilliant detective skills, I'll find the girl and get an interview with her. Who do you think she could be?"_

_Marinette shrugged her shoulders. "It's obviously not someone like us. He's handsome enough, I'm sure he's interested in an actress or model or something."_

_"Handsome?" Alya repeated, flashing an impish smirk. "Ooh, Marinette, do you have a crush on Monsieur Chat Noir?"_

_Her blue bell eyes widened at the question as she cheeks flamed. "N-No! Of course not! I like Adrien, remember?"_

_Alya hummed. "But you have to admit, he is pretty cute. And he doesn't look too bad in leather..."_

_"I'm telling Nino," Marinette claimed with a grin._

_Alya scoffed. "Go ahead. You think he'd actually be jealous when we're already dating?"_

_The answer came to be yes, he could._

...

Marinette awoke with a fond smile as she recalled her dream. It was a time when things were normal and the only worry she had was looking like a fool in front of Adrien.

A frown marred her features.

Well, back to the present.

As she sat up, she tilted her head in puzzlement when she eyed the fleece blanket over the bed. She didn't remember putting it there before going to sleep. Maybe she put it on in the middle of the night and didn't remember?

It was the only reasonable explanation.

By the time she was ready and appeared in the kitchen, Chat Noir had already placed their lunch on the table, along with their drinks. She didn't say anything as she sat down and picked up her fork.

"Enjoy your vacation away from me, yesterday?" He asked, smirking.

She suppressed an amused grin when she thought of her response. "It was alright, but not nearly long enough."

He chuckled and took a sip of his drink. "Sorry to disappoint."

"It's alright, it happens quite frequently."

He paused with the glass to his lips and raised a teasing eyebrow before continuing with his drink. Marinette felt a grin slide onto her features as she began to eat her lunch.

Well, this was different. Teasing Chat Noir? She never thought their interactions would be like this. The context of it was so bizarre, yet it felt kind of...normal-ish to talk with him like this. It almost reminded her of the friendly, cheeky hero persona.

"So, what did you do yesterday?" He questioned casually.

"I went to the stream to get some inspiration," she replied before taking another bite of her meal. She didn't want to tell him about the mysterious old man, something in her gut told her not to. Besides, she wasn't exactly lying to him by saying her response. She did go to the stream to get some inspiration for new designs.

He smiled. "That's nice. The stream is a great place to relax and cool off. Did you get any inspiration from it?"

The blackette shrugged. "Not much."

He nodding, humming. "Ah. Did you find it in my room, then?"

Marinette froze, her fork still in her hand.

Chat Noir gave her a toothy smirk. "Well? Did you? Surely something must've compelled you to go in there."

She swallowed nervously. "H-How did you know?"

His smirk curled even deeper, his green eyes seemed to sparkle. "You left the box holding my brooch open." He tsked. "Really, Princess, I thought you were smarter than that. It's such a novice mistake. Then again, you probably are a novice, so I shouldn't judge you too harshly. Or do you make it a habit of sneaking into men's rooms and looking through their things?"

Her mouth was open and closing, though no words escaped. She had no idea what to say to get the best result.

"So," he continued, still as calm as ever. "Did you find your inspiration?"

She slowly and silently shook her head in the negative.

"Hm. That's too bad."

He rose out of his chair, causing Marinette to stiffen in fear. He swore he wouldn't hurt her, but would he qualify this as a different situation? One that warranted her getting hurt?

She closed her eyes when he drew near, kept them closed when he took hold of her chin his fingers.

"Look at me, Princess."

He referred to her as that nickname, therefore he couldn't be that angry. Right?

She timidly opened her eyes, founding herself staring up into luminescent green orbs. He wore neither a smirk or a furious snarl. Instead, his face was carefully blank, not allowing Marinette to try to determine what he was thinking.

"This house is yours, as much as it is mine," he started. "However, I would prefer it if you didn't go into my room and inspect my things. You wouldn't like it if I snooped in your things, would you?" His tone was perfectly neutral, if not the least bit scolding. It reminded her of being reprimanded by a teacher.

"No," she mumbled, still trying to process what was happening, still preparing for the fatal cataclysm or punch.

He nodded, and finally his mouth quirked up into a grin. "Glad we got this sorted out. Now, we can finish lunch."

...

Marinette stared down her bed with a hand propped beneath her chin. She had the idea to go swimming in the indoor pool after lunch, but was having second thoughts. What if Chat Noir showed up? Then again, he didn't really seek her out in the mansion to talk with her, so there's a good chance he'd just stay away from her.

Lunch continued on normally after that, even though she was still afraid of him being mad. Yet he smiled and talked with her, and soon her fears started to melt away and became replaced with clever quips and teasing.

She didn't like it. Becoming more comfortable around Chat Noir. It was wrong, he was a hero who turned his back on his country. He wasn't someone she should be getting comfortable around, not to mention tease.

She managed to find a swim suit in the bottom drawer and laid it out on her bed. It was pink with small, white polka dots on it. She had to give him credit, he had excellent taste in clothing.

Screw it. She was going swimming. He did say this was her house too, so why shouldn't she go swimming?

Marinette shrugged off her clothes and replaced them with her bathing suit. She grabbed a towel from the linen closet along and slipped on a pair of flip flops before leaving her bedroom.

She didn't encounter him during the way there, luckily. She was sure to make her flip flops try to make the least amount of noise possible.

When she got to the pool, she took her time to gaze in awe at the area, as always. Brown, tiled floor beneath her feet and under the surrounding wicker lounge chairs. Tall windows that curved up were on the far side of the room where the wall would normally be, providing her a view of sunlight and trees.

Columns with intricate designs, looking to be made of sand, held up the upper floor, where a person can peer out into the room and see the pool. The pool itself was in a perfect circle, with steps in the water to make wading in easier. A little cave decoration was on the one end of the circle, Marinette guessed it was the filter that kept the water clean.

And clean water it was. It was such a calming, sky blue. It looked far cleaner than any pool's water she had ever been into in her life.

Marinette lay her towel and flip flops by a wicker chair before going in the water. To her surprise, she found it to be heated to the perfect temperature. She sighed and smiled as she walked in further and sat on the bottom step, so she was covered with the soothing water.

As she sat there, she found her mind wandering toward thoughts of home. How were her parents doing? And Alya? Nino? Everyone?

She scoffed in amusement. She wondered if her acceptance letter ever came through, or if it was just a rejection. Now, she supposed, she'll never know.

She sighed again. Although, she had to admit, she didn't have it all that bad here. Good food, this pool, a room filled with all the luxuries she had only dreamed of. Chat Noir could've made it much worse for her, yet he treated her like an esteemed guest.

She still wondered why he even wanted her here. Surely he just didn't want someone to freeload off of him like this.

"As the Americans say, penny for your thoughts?"

Marinette jumped, fully startled, and whipped her head to the left to see Chat Noir peering down at her with a mischievous grin from the upper deck. He was leaning against the railings and just tilting his head ever so slightly.

She rolled her eyes.

He continued speaking. "I see you finally decided to give the pool a try. Is it satisfactory?"

She didn't look at him when she nodded her assent.

Unbeknownst to her, Chat Noir breathed out a small sigh of relief.

"So what are you doing here?" She asked, having built up the courage.

He shrugged. "Just walking around."

She raised an eyebrow, lips pulling up into a rare, coy grin. "Ah. So tell me, why does a cat have a swimming pool? I thought cats hated water."

The thought came to her so suddenly that she couldn't help but blurt it out. Also, she was kind of curious. Really, cats hated water, right?

The blond's mouth curved up. "Oh, we do, Princess. Being in this suit gives me a lot of feline qualities, and one of them, of course, is being hateful of water. But when I take off the suit, I'm perfectly normal."

"I think I'm glad I don't have to see you take off the suit," she remarked, amused.

He smirked deviously. "I'm positive you'd swoon at first sight."

"From what, fright?" She joked, laughing.

He chuckled. "Not exactly."

"What do you mean? Are you disfigured or something and the mask covers it?" She inquired, becoming genuinely curious.

Chat Noir let out another noise of mirth. "Far from it. Why, you could even say I'm model material."

Marinette gave a good, loud laugh at that. "Yeah, right. Modelling for your wanted poster, maybe."

Chat Noir shared her laugh before leaning back. "Maybe. I better get going, Princess, I wouldn't want to disturb your swim."

"Do you want to come in?" She blurted out without thinking, the polite side of her coming into play and completely forgetting about her current predicament. She stiffened when she realized what she asked.

He blinked, taken aback, but soon enough smiled. "I'd have to take off my suit for that...and I'm not ready for you to know my identity yet."

He paused to tap a finger on his chin in thought, until his eyes seemed to light up.

"How do you feel about blindfolds?"


	7. Chapter 7

"Blindfolds?" Marinette repeated, blinking.

He nodded with a grin that for some reason caused the blood to rush to her cheeks. "Yes, blindfolds. You know, a cloth that is generally used to slip over a person's eyes to prevent them from seeing?"

"I know what a blindfold is," she retorted irritably. "What I'm wondering is why you're asking me about them."

"It's simple, Princess," he replied lightly. "If you allow me to put a blindfold on you, I'll de-transform and then we can swim together. That way my identity will be safe."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Why should you even care if I know? It's not like I know you under that mask. Besides, I'm stuck in this house. Who am I going to tell?"

His teeth flashed in a smirk. "True, you do not, as you say. However, you're not stuck here. You can leave at any time. How do I know that after I reveal myself, tomorrow you'll run straight to the nearest town and scream my real name for all the world to hear?"

He leaned his elbows on the railing again and continued smirking down at her. "I'm afraid that I just don't trust you yet, Princess."

Marinette gaped at his response. He doesn't trust her? She shouldn't trust him! He's the supervillain here, not her!

Her eyes narrowed and a small growl escaped her throat. "Well I'm not letting you put a blindfold on me."

Chat Noir shrugged. "Then I guess I'm not swimming today. Have fun, Princess!" He gave her a parting two-finger salute and backed away from the railing. She heard his footsteps until the sound an accompanying door opened and closed.

She 'hmph'd' and starting swimming towards the deeper end of the water. Who cares if he didn't swim with her? She didn't. She didn't need him to have fun in the pool, she could have fun all by herself.

...

Adrien sighed as he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The door was safely locked, so even if Marinette tried to reach him, she'd be prevented from doing so.

"Really, kid? Blindfolds?" Plagg scoffed, laughing. "What made you think she'd trust you enough to let you put a blindfold on her?"

The blond frowned. "I didn't expect her to, in all honesty. I don't even know why I suggested it."

"Because you're just so hopeful that she'll have feelings for you," Plagg sneered. "I'm telling you, you're going about this the wrong way."

"Well what choice do I have now?!" Adrien snapped, sitting up to glare at the floating kwami eating cheese. "She's here and I can't just take her back. There'll be too many questions."

"So what do you expect to do?" Plagg asked, raising a brow...well, if he had one, it would be raised. Instead the skin above his eye rose. "Keep her here forever?"

Adrien clenched his teeth. "I don't know."

"You know," Plagg began, swallowing another bite of cheese. "This never would've happened if you'd just stayed a hero. You could've done this romance the old-fashioned way, visit her at night for balcony visits and other gag-inducing nonsense."

The blond bitterly snickered. "Yeah right, like you would've been up for that. Transforming for something other than an akuma?"

Plagg kept quiet at that. He was right, after all. He would've been complaining everyday about having to transform for silly teenage antics. But had he known about this, this other reality, he would've been happy to keep his mouth shut and let his Chosen do as he wished.

"Thought so," Adrien whispered with a twisted grin.

"Even so," Plagg began softly, ignoring the blond's remark, "you caught him. There weren't any more akumas. There was no need to change."

Adrien didn't reply.

"Why did you let his words affect you like that? Are you really that easily led? I thought I had a headstrong Chosen, not a weak-minded one."

"Didn't you say Tikki was the therapist of the kwamis?" Adrien hissed, spinning around to glower at the black cat god. "Why give me this bullshit?"

Plagg revealed his fangs in a loud hiss of fury. "What he told you was bullshit! And believe me, I wish I could spare you all this righteous stuff, but someone has to try to talk some sense into you since you're too stubborn to figure anything out for yourself."

"He told the truth, Plagg! He was right."

"No, he wasn't! Why are you so eager to believe him, anyway? Your father was Hawk Moth, a man who turned people into akumas to try to get your Miraculous. Why don't you think he'd try to bend your mind?"

"Shut up, Plagg."

"No, I won't! I've 'shut up' for too long. It's about time I tell it to you straight."

"Shut. Up."

"Adrien!"

"Claws out!"

Plagg was powerless against the calling. In no time he was pulled into the ring and transformed the blond into the powerful villain.

Chat Noir groaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Just when he thought he could relax.

...

_Chat Noir gleefully crawled in though the open window to his bedroom. It was just after two in the morning, he was fully aware it was a school night, yet he couldn't help feeling happy. He'd stopped three attempted robberies and an akuma, he'd say this was the best and most productive night of his life._

_"Okay, Plagg, claws in," Chat whispered, still giddy even as he de-transformed._

_"Good job out there," Plagg offered before yawning. "Now where's the cheese?"_

_Adrien rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of his throat. "Gee, thanks. I'll go downstairs and get some, just relax."_

_"So that's why you always request the butlers to buy camembert, even though I've never seen you yourself eat it."_

_Both kwami and teen stiffened. At the same time, their gazes gradually turned to see Gabriel Agreste, standing with his hands clasped behind his back and grinning. It was unlike the happy grins Adrien had seen in his youth. This was was purely sinister and chilled him to the bone._

_"F-Father?" Adrien gasped in shock. "H-How...why...?"_

_His father knew he was Chat Noir. He knew. He knew. He knew the man running around Paris in a leather catsuit was his own son._

_All Adrien could be worried about at the moment was whether being able to continue his hero work or not. He could only imagine the lack of freedom his father would suddenly bestow on him._

_Plagg didn't say a word. Instead he dived down to duck behind his Chosen's shoulder. Tiny paws settled themselves on the cloth of the white, designer shirt as the kwami peeked up uneasily at Gabriel._

_"I've had my suspicions for awhile now. Did you really think you could do this sort of thing right under my nose and not be caught?" The older man laughed. "Really, Adrien, how naive can you be?"_

_Adrien shivered, his lower lip trembled in fear. All this time thinking he had one over on his father, how he finally knew something the man didn't._

_The illusion shattered, matching Adrien's mind._

_"It wasn't until I noticed you wearing that ring. Then all the clues suddenly started coming together," Gabriel explained. "But do you know what really made me angry?"_

_Adrien silently shook his head, fearful of the answer._

_"The fact that the Miraculous was right here the whole time."_

_Adrien straightened, his shoulders having previously been slightly hunched over._

_What? The Miraculous? But the only one after his Miraculous was-_

_He gasped and took a step back, shaking his head in refusal as he did so. No, it couldn't be. It couldn't be. His father couldn't be Hawk Moth. No! His father wasn't a supervillian! Sure, he may be cold and closed off to others, but that didn't mean he went around turning people into terrifying creatures._

_Gabriel smirked wickedly, evilly. "Nooroo..."_

_Adrien's eyes slowly enlarged in growing realization and horror._

_"Darkwings, rise!"_

_The blond gasped when he saw the butterflies lift themselves from the floor, having previously been covered in shadow in the dark corners of his room. They hurriedly flew to their master, covering every inch of his body. In seconds, the man of Adrien's everyday torment stood in his father's place._

_Hawk Moth._

_Adrien could only tremble, his brain shut down and utterly useless at the sight that greeted him. How could his father be Hawk Moth? All this time? All this time he was torturing the citizens of Paris, transforming them into akumas for his Miraculous._

_He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, hoping he'd just be a figment of his imagination and vanish. Hawk Moth chuckled at the boy's attempts._

_"I'm real, Adrien. You're not dreaming, and you're not hallucinating."_

_No. No. No. No!_

_"H-How could you do this?" he whispered brokenly. When he next blinked, he didn't notice the accompanying wetness on his eyelashes. "How could you be him?!"_

_"I'm not the bad guy, Adrien," the man admonished. "I only want what's best for us."_

_"Best for us?!" The model shrieked. "How is terrorizing Paris best for us! And do you know how many times I almost got killed because of one of your akumas? You almost killed your own son!"_

_"I didn't know!" Hawk Moth argued harshly. "Didn't you notice the akuma attacks have been fewer and farther in between? That's because I started suspecting it was you."_

_His son quieted. It was true. He had been wondering about the lack of akumas, but never considered this to be the reason why. He had blindly hoped the man was just giving up._

_Well, that couldn't be further from the truth._

_"But I will never hurt you again," Hawk Moth vowed, "if you give me your Miraculous."_

_Adrien was positively floored at the request. Was he serious? After this kind of revelation he still wanted that damn ring?!_

_"No," he growled. "You may be my father, but I'm not giving you my ring."_

_It was the first time in his life he had ever directly disobeyed his father. Sure, he tried to sneak into school, but he knew this refusal was much more damaging._

_Hawk Moth narrowed his eyes. "I need the ring, Adrien. With it and the Ladybug earrings, I can bring your mother back!"_

_Adrien's mouth parted in astonishment._

_"Y-You...can bring her...b-back?"_

_His mother. His loving, beautiful mother holding him in her arms again. It was almost too good to be true._

_"That's because it is," Plagg hissed from behind Adrien's shoulder. The owner's green eyes darted down to look at the kwami. "You can't bring back the dead, not like how you're thinking. If you tried, she'd be like one of those zombies on those horror movies you hate."_

_"Don't listen to whatever he says!" Hawk Moth demanded, forcing his son's attention back on him. "I can bring her back, Adrien. All I need you to do is help me. You can start by giving me your ring."_

_He bit his lip. Plagg would never lie to him, but he wanted his mother back. His mother who disappeared without a trace and was likely dead. To have her in his arms again, whispering loving words into his ear and reading bedtime stories to him, making breakfast with him and dancing with him and-_

_"Adrien," Plagg bit out. "I know what you're thinking. It's impossible. I'm sorry, but it is. You can't bring her back. Don't give him your ring."_

_"Stop trying to manipulate him!" Hawk Moth ordered._

_"Adrien," Plagg whispered. "Don't listen to him."_

_The model looked between the two opposing forces._

_"Give me the ring, Adrien. We can find the Ladybug earrings together and soon it'll all be over. We'll be a family again, just you, me, and your Maman."_

_As he looked down at the ground, nervously twisting his ring on his finger, Hawk Moth took advantage of his inner turmoil and stepped closer to him. He gradually drew nearer and nearer, all the while his son was completely oblivious._

_"We'll be together again," he whispered. "A family. I'll be proud of you if you do this."_

_That made Adrien straighten. Hawk Moth, hand outstretched, drew away at the way his son now looked at him._

_Blank. Until, a fire erupted in his emerald eyes._

_"Proud?" he repeated. "You'll be proud of me?"_

_Hawk Moth tilted his head, but quickly smiled as he thought his son was giving into the idea. "Yes, son. I'll be extremely proud of you."_

_"So...you were never proud of me. Is that what you're saying?"_

_The older man stilled._

_"All those photo shoots. Those fencing trophies. Those basketball trophies. Being fluent in Chinese. Playing every song ever written for the piano. Perfect GPA. All of that, and you were never proud?" He asked lowly, darkly, and threateningly. For once, Hawk Moth felt a shiver of fear go down his spine._

_"Son-"_

_"And that!" Adrien cried out, new fury sparking in his eyes. He pointed a shaking, accusing finger at the supervillain. "You've never called me that before, not until now when you want my Miraculous. Well, Father," he spat._

_Hawk Moth gripped his cane in uncertainty._

_"You're not getting it. You know what? I think I'll take _your_ Miraculous instead. Plagg!"_

_The kwami chanced a peek at his Chosen. "Adrien-"_

_"Claws out!"_

...

Marinette stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a fluffy pink towel. She slipped her feet into her waiting slippers and walked out of the bathroom. She absolutely loved that shower. If she ever got out of here, she was determined to save enough money to buy one for herself.

Once in her bedroom, she discarded the towel and took to changing into her nightwear. This time a sky blue silk nightgown covered her body. She rubbed her hands along her sides, feeling the smooth material between her fingertips and smiling.

Luckily, there was a clock on the wall, allowing her to see the time without having to refer to her phone. It was almost 5:30, the perfect time for dinner.

But she couldn't go down there like this. And she didn't want to change into her day clothes, either.

Hm. Didn't she see a bathrobe in her new closet?

When she tied the fluffy robe around herself, she slipped on her slippers and made her way to the door. As she walked throughout the halls, she noticed a distinct lack of food smell in the air. Usually at this time the wonderful smells of dinner would spread throughout the entire house but for some reason the halls was devoid of it now.

Maybe she became nose-blind to it.

She trekked closer and closer to the kitchen, all the while listening for the sounds of Chat Noir cooking. There wasn't any she could pick up. When at last she made it to the room, she was surprised to find it completely empty, no food in sight.

He was actually here and didn't cook for her? Her eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. He always stressed that he didn't want her to do any amount of work while he was there, so him not cooking was utterly strange.

Oh well, she could make dinner by herself. It was no big deal.

She bit her lip and glanced out of the room. Wouldn't Chat Noir be hungry, too? She couldn't just cook for herself, it wouldn't be right.

She started out the door.

...

_Chat Noir stood above Hawk Moth, using the back of his glove to wipe a trail of blood from his bottom lip. His father lay on the floor, groaning in pain as he clutched his sides. The ashes of his cane were scattered around the room._

_"Paris is going to be so happy that you're gone," Chat Noir remarked darkly. "Their troubles will finally be over, they can lose control of their emotions without having to worry of a supervillian preying on them. They'll be so thankful-"_

_Despite the pain, Hawk Moth began to chuckle. The chuckles grew louder and louder until they transformed into laughs. Chat's eyes widened in wariness and his upper lip curled up in growing fear._

_"What's so funny?" He demanded._

_"Do you really think," Hawk Moth paused to gasp for air, "that they'll be thankful? Of you? They don't care about you."_

_Chat's eyebrows lowered. "Of course they care about me. I'm their hero!"_

_Hawk Moth unleashed a purely maddening cackle. "They only care of what you can do for them. They don't care about you. Did you really think they did? No one in this city cares for you, they only care about the services you provide to them. If you died, they'd only mourn you because you wouldn't be able to do anything more for them."_

_Chat Noir blinked in disbelief. "No. They care about me. I know it!"_

_Hawk Moth shook his head. "You crave so much for love and affection that you try to find it in random people. No one truly loves anyone, son. They only care of the favors you can do for them."_

_"You're lying!"_

_"Am I?" He asked. "You believe me. I know you do. Or at least, you're thinking of it. I've already planted the seed of doubt into your brain, and this will keep eating at you eating at you. Soon you'll start to rationalize with the idea-"_

_As he kept talking, Chat kept drawing farther back in doubt, shaking his head._

_"-you'll start seeing the ideas connecting. Like that statue they built of you? Only a bribe to make sure you'll stick around to help them. Chat Noir day? Merely another incentive to make sure you continue to be their slave."_

_"No!"_

_"And even when they did express concern, such as 'are you okay', it was only to reassure themselves that you'll be back and ready to fight another akuma for them. They don't care about you, Adrien. Only what you can do for them."_

_The blond bit his lip, eyes darting wildly to his crumpled father and the floor. He was lying, wasn't he? But it did somewhat make sense...he was a worker in this city to some degree. Never had someone tried to connect with him. Never had they offered him a meal or a drink. Then again, even if they did, would those have been bribes, too?_

_He could barely think, could barely breathe with the new revelations running through his mind. The statue of him that made him smile in pride whenever he saw it? A bribe. The holiday declared for him that made him grin and blush upon hearing it? Another incentive. All those interviews...they always asked him questions about his personal life, trying to dig as deep as they could and extract any sort of details about him. They were just vultures looking for gossip, and he was the biggest source of gossip in Paris._

_"Come on, son. Let's end this," Hawk Moth offered softly. "You don't need them, and that's what they're so afraid of you realizing. We can make them pay-"_

_He was interrupted by Chat's hand coming down and snatching his Miraculous from beneath his chin. He instantly transformed back into Gabriel Agreste, who looked at his son wide-eyed in shock._

_"Even so, I'm not putting up with any more akumas," Chat Noir spat. "Besides," he grinned wickedly, "I can't have someone else trying to steal my spotlight."_

_Chat Noir strolled to the window, the warm purple brooch in his fist._

...

The blond sat up, drenched in a cold sweat when he heard the knocking on his door. He looked about the room, seemingly forgetting where he was.

"Chat Noir?" The muffled voice of Marinette called. "Are you there? I was wondering what you wanted for dinner..."

Marinette. Dinner. Mansion. That's right. He wasn't a 15-year-old boy anymore who just faced the ultimate revelation of his father being Hawk Moth. He was no longer scared and unsure, he was a mature adult and was a supervillian for three years now.

Chat sighed, trying to calm his nerves, and got up out of bed. He walked to the door and opened it, startling the her.

"I'll cook, just give me a second," he murmured before turning around to find a cloth to wipe his face from the sweat.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured you guys might need this today, especially to any American readers :/

Marinette couldn't help but give her dining partner wary looks as he slowly but surely ate. He didn't say anything to her at all, just cooked and served her, as usual. His consistent frown was making her own mood plummet.

There was obviously something wrong with him. His coming out to meet her in a cold sweat didn't do anything to deter that idea. Maybe he was sick?

She shouldn't ask, he's only a villain. Who cared if he was depressed? She didn't care how his ears were literally drooping, how he didn't tease her, or smile. She should continue eating her food and then go back to her room without a care in the world.

Too bad her good heart seldom listened to her hardened thoughts.

"Chat Noir? Are you sick or something?" She asked in a small, unsure voice.

There, see? Not outright concern, the question could be taken as her being worried for possible germs and viruses.

For the first time, his head tilted up to meet her gaze. His eyes looked...pained.

However, one corner of his mouth turned up for her. "No, I'm not sick. I just-ah-had a bad dream. That's all."

The blackette shrunk back in her seat. "Do...do you want to talk about it?"

His frown made a reappearance as he shook his head. "No."

His answer caused a shaky, unsure smile to adorn her mouth. Should she be persisting like this? What if he got angry?

"Talking makes you feel better. I would know."

Alya was there for her every time Marinette was feeling worthless and doubtful about her crush on Adrien. Sometimes she would look in the mirror and wonder what a guy like him could ever possibly want in a girl like her.

He was wealthy. She was just slightly-above average middle class.

He was the smartest boy in class aside from Max. The smartest girl was Sabrina.

He was fluent in Chinese. Despite being half-Chinese herself, she couldn't speak a word of it.

He was a top fencer. She was a top klutz.

He played basketball and piano. She played video games.

Lastly, he was beyond gorgeous. She was just...average. No model wanted an average girlfriend. She hated to admit it, but Chloe was the most beautiful girl in their class when it came to looks. Adrien should've and probably would drool after her once they were older.

Alya would be there to theoretically smack some sense into her. She'd remind her that she was worth far more than she gave herself credit for, and that Adrien would soon be running after her like a lovesick puppy.

Every time Alya would give her a pep talk, it did it's purpose: put some pep back into her and have her look forward to another day.

So, yes, Marinette would know that talking makes a person feel better.

But Chat Noir only shook his head in refusal again. "I don't want to talk about it. It's not important, anyway."

The young designer stubbornly crossed her arms in front of her chest, completely abandoning her dinner. "It must be important for you to act like this. You didn't even call me 'Princess'!"

She realized her mistake when that Cheshire grin was making a startling return to his features, prompting her mouth to part in panic and her sapphire eyes to widen.

"I didn't know you liked the nickname so much, _Princess_."

The way he said it in such a deep, purring voice made a coil of heat gather in her stomach and her breath to hitch, but not in fear. She didn't want to think about any other possible meaning behind it.

Marinette turned away before he could notice the blood rushing to her cheeks. "I don't like it, it's just that it's weird that you haven't called me it since you do it all the time."

"Oh," he simply replied, donning a softer smirk. "I apologize for my mistake, then."

She didn't answer, instead turning back to look at her food and not daring to meet those glittering cat-eyes of his.

"I forgot to ask," he suddenly spoke. "How was your swim?"

At least his mood seemed to lighten. She wouldn't repeatedly ask him about the dream he had, worrying that he'd go right back into depressed-kitten mode.

"It was nice. Honestly, I never thought I'd ever be able to swim in a pool like that."

He cocked his head to the side. "Like what?"

Marinette stared at him in disbelief. Did he really not know how amazing his pool was? How many people fantasize about owning a pool like that?

"It's beautiful!" She exclaimed, throwing out a hand to enunciate her point. "Do you know how many people would kill for a pool like that?"

Chat Noir grinned in amusement. "Not really. But thank you for the compliments, I'm happy you love it so much."

"You're welcome."

She idly wondered how they ended up like this, talking so naturally with each other. In context this behavior was entirely wrong, and Marinette knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help but feel drawn to talk with him. Was it because of her isolation from the rest of the human population? Because he was the only one she could talk to?

She needed to see that old man by the stream again. He was strange, but hopefully talking to him would snap her out of this.

...

The next day when Marinette told Chat Noir she was going to take a walk, she was a bit surprised when he let her go without any warning to return to the mansion. In fact, he even teased her and suggested she run out of the forest and to the nearest town.

She rolled her eyes at that. First, she'd probably die in the forest. She didn't know much about survival. Second, she'd be breaking their deal and he'd return to terrorizing Paris.

She hated how he dangled her freedom over her head, like a cat toy. Freedom was just within her reach, she could grab it at anytime, but she couldn't.

Taking her backpack with her she ventured once again in the forest, taking the same path she had taken before. This time she brought a small knife with her, to make markings in the trees that she passed along the way.

In no time she found the trickling stream again and removed her flats, lowering her feet into the cool, refreshing water.

There was no way to tell if the old man would be back on this particular afternoon, but even so, it was nice to be out in the fresh air and have some quality alone time. It gave her the time and peace to reflect on her experiences of the mansion and with Chat Noir.

He was still a grand mystery to her. She still had no idea why he wanted her there or why he didn't harm her, or why he's been so kind with her compared to the way he treated everyone else.

She sighed. Was it too much to ask for answers?

"Hello again!"

Marinette flinched at the sudden voice, but smiled when she saw it was the same old man whom she had spoken to during her last time at the stream. The pattern on his shirt was the same, white flowers, but the background color was a dark blue instead of a cherry red.

"Hi!" She replied, just as friendly. "It's nice to see you again."

The old man chuckled and gently eased his way down to sit beside her. "And you, as well, Marinette."

The sound of her name made her blink and a flash of remembrance hit her. They never properly introduced themselves! Obviously he knew her name from the news but she had no idea what his name was. Was that rude? Probably.

"I'm sorry," she began sheepishly. "I just realized we never introduced ourselves. You already know I'm Marinette, what's your name?"

The old man's mustache crinkled up in tune with his mouth. "I am Fu. It is a pleasure to meet you, my dear."

He held out his hand to shake and Marinette took it without hesitation.

"So," she started, leaning back on her palms. "How's the-uh-outside world?"

He hummed while he took off his sandals to sink his feet in the water. "It's been a lot more peaceful in Paris."

A bitter chuckle escaped from her mouth. "It better be."

Fu inclined his head to the side as he looked at her. Although, Marinette had the feeling that he was more likely studying her than just looking at her in casual conversation.

"Speaking of, how is your living arrangement going? Did Chat Noir hurt you yet?"

Her eyebrows furrowed at the question. It was a question anybody might ask her, but it still sparked something within her at hearing it.

"No, he hasn't." She turned away to gaze at the little, enchanting stream. "He actually swore on his Miraculous that he wouldn't hurt me, whatever it is."

Fu's eyes almost seemed to bulge out of his head. "He-?!" He exclaimed loudly, causing Marinette to turn sharply to him in alarm, only to clear his throat and try talking in a lower, normal voice.

"I mean, he swore on his Miraculous? The very thing that grants his powers?"

She raised a curious eyebrow. Why did he have that type of reaction? What was so bad about Chat Noir swearing upon his Miraculous?

"Yes. I don't know what his Miraculous is, but I already knew it grants his powers. He never told anyone what it was."

Fu was staring straight into the distance when he nodded in contemplation. "He's serious," he murmured. "He really won't hurt you."

Somehow, hearing the truth coming from a person that wasn't Chat Noir sent a type of tingly feeling in her stomach. She brushed it off and gazed into the distance of the trees, too.

"And you don't know what his Miraculous is?" He inquired, rubbing a hand along his chin.

She shook her head. "Nope. I have no idea."

All of a sudden he grinned, knowingly and mischievously. "You know, I've heard that it's his ring."

"A ring?" She repeated, frowning. She didn't recall him ever wearing a ring.

"It's not the most noticeable thing, only cameras of the highest quality can capture it. It's black, so it blends in with the rest of his suit, but has a green paw print in the center."

The description didn't ring a bell. She guessed it was just because she wasn't looking for a ring when conversing with him.

"So," she spoke, gathering her thoughts, "that ring gives him his power?"

He nodded with a smirk. "If I'm right and his Miraculous is the ring. And keep in mind, dear, I'm hardly ever wrong."

She nodded. "If it's his ring, then what would happen if it got removed?

"Well," he answered, shrugging his shoulders, "I can only guess it would take his powers away."

Marinette lit up as though she was in her favorite fabrics store. That's it, her ticket out of this mess! If she could take his ring, then all her problems would be over! He'd be powerless against her, against Paris, against the world. He'd never bother anyone ever again.

"I can tell what you're thinking," Fu cut in, halting her eager and victorious thoughts. "Getting that ring is going to be very hard. It will be in no way easy."

Marinette still smiled despite the bitter truth laid out before her. "I know. I'll have to get it when he's really distracted, or sleeping. Fu, if I can get that Miraculous, then all our troubles will be over. I have to try."

His lips thinned into a pensive line. "If you think that's what's best. But be careful."

She bobbed her head excitedly. "I will! I'll get that ring, just watch!"

If she could steal a cell phone, how hard would it be to steal a ring?

...

Marinette didn't think she could ever have better luck.

For there, sitting on the couch in front of the fire, was Chat Noir himself, sleeping like a baby with a book nestled on top of his legs.

When she had returned from her excursion to the stream, she immediately went on the look out for the elusive feline. She honestly didn't really have a plan, maybe trick him to take it off? Or there was always the sleeping option, but she would have to wait until late in the night to try that.

She searched every room until she came upon the private library/study. It was a large enough room, with bookshelves lining the walls. There was a spiral staircase that led to the second floor in order to reach the books near the top of the room, along with a ladder resting against the wall for even more of an assist.

Plush, black furniture was scattered around the room, a carpet lay in front of the grand fireplace. The mantle was made of a gorgeous, dark wood that shined in the light. In the back of the room was a writing desk with papers and pens lying about. A few windows let light in on the bottom floor, with large, black curtains pulled to the side in that perfect way she'd seen on movies.

Marinette tip-toed into the room, all the while eyeing Chat Noir to detect any sign of his waking. There wasn't, so she pressed on, getting closer and closer to him.

His head was lulled to the side, eyes softly pressed closed, and his blond locks were sweeping off along his forehead. His lips were slightly open as he steadily breathed in and out.

His right hand lay on top of the book's page, allowing her to see the ring. Fu had been right in his description of it: black, with a green paw print in the center.

She bit her lip nervously. Could she do this? What if he woke up?

His body didn't change, he still slept soundly as if there wasn't a girl in the room who planned to steal his Miraculous.

Her forget-me-not orbs sparked in determination. This was her only chance and she wasn't going to blow it because of her fear.

Her tongue poked out from her lips in concentration as she lowered her hand to his. She was able to pinch her two fingers on the top of the ring, thankfully it was bulky enough so she could get a good grip on it.

Yet when she tried to slide it off, nothing happened. It wouldn't budge at all.

Frowning, she tugged a bit harder. It still didn't move. Did he have it super glued to his finger or something?!

A small grunt emitted from the back of her throat as she gave it another try, pulling yet accomplishing nothing.

Except waking Chat Noir.

Her breath flew out of her lungs when she suddenly found her wrists being grabbed, and her body brought to the ground. Her eyes widened in terror as the fully-awake villain straddled her, pinning her to the floor and holding her wrists on either side of her head.

Her heart pounded in fright when he smirked.

"Princess, were you trying to steal my ring?"

The girl's mouth opened to give an answer, but all he got in response was air.

"Marinette," he warned sternly, the smirk falling from his lips. "Tell me the truth."

Marinette couldn't meet him in the eyes when she nodded to affirm her answer. Now she had done it, he was going to kill her after what she tried to do. She could only hope whatever he had planned for her would be quick and painless.

He shook his head at her. "First you go in my room and snoop through my things, then you try to take my ring. You've been a very bad princess, Marinette."

Her lips curled up above her teeth in a scared grimace. She could feel her heart furiously beating, she honestly wouldn't be surprised if it burst out of her chest.

What was he going to do? What was he going to do?

"You tried to take something from me," he continued, though now the smirk was fully back in place. "And now, I think you should be punished."

She tried to hold back a gasp. Punished? What would his definition of a punishment be? Supervillains were unpredictable. 

"I think it's only right that I take something from you. Maybe then you'll learn your lesson."

Take something from her? Like what? Her life?

His head was only a few inches above hers. She was fully aware of how green his eyes really were, as they kept piercing into her blue ones. Blond strands dangled in the air between them. If she moved her head up a bit, she could touch them.

"So, Princess, do you agree this is a fair punishment?" He asked in a lower and quieter tone. Once again the teasing smirk was gone, replaced by a somber look, matching his voice.

Her heartbeat was still quickened, but she didn't feel much fear anymore. Instead she felt a kind of fire in her veins, ignited by the mystery and danger of the situation.

In the back of her mind, she noted she was never like this. She never liked danger nor was ever intrigued by it, she preferred to run away from perilous situations. Yet his eyes were holding her gaze firmly in place, commanding her to look only at him and she was powerless against the beckoning.

Dazed, she moved her head up and down in agreement.

She was broken out of the trance when he planted his lips on hers.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amount of comments from chapter 7 to chapter 8 is amazing, thank you very much :)

Marinette's surprised squeak was muffled by Chat Noir's lips. What in the world was he doing?! Well, she knew, but why was he doing it? What could have possibly possessed him to do something like this?

Just as she snapped out of her shock and was about to push him off, he disconnected their mouths and gazed down at her with an impish smirk. Marinette could only stare, waiting for some type of explanation for his actions.

"There. I think you've learned your lesson," he observed, still wearing that smug grin. "From now on maybe you'll behave, or educate yourself of the situation before you try stealing something."

The young designer lowered her eyebrows. Educate herself? What did she need to educate herself on when planning to steal his Miraculous?

He saw her confusion and snickered. "A Miraculous can only be given up willingly. The only one who can take this ring off my finger is me. By the way, how did you even know it was my ring? I never gave you any hint of it."

Now she swallowed nervously and her blue eyes flickered to the side. She couldn't tell him about the old man by the stream, he might track him down and hurt him or something. Or she wouldn't be permitted to go there anymore and talk with him.

"Um-I-ah-thought the ring looked out of place...so I thought that might be the Miraculous!" She flashed him a smile that she hoped looked innocent and not guilty in the slightest.

The blond smirked down at her when he heard her response. Marinette bit her lip, worried that he wasn't going to believe her if his expression was any indication.

Her heart beat doubled when he leaned his face down closer to hers. Was he going to kiss her again? He better not be. With hardened eyes, she set her lips into a determined line. This time she'd be ready to push him off if he so much as brushed their lips together.

However, he placed his mouth near her ear as opposed to her mouth.

"You always were a terrible liar, and I see that still stands today. But I'll let you off the hook just this once, Princess."

His warm breath combined with the lowered tone made a chill run down her spine and her stomach have butterflies in it. But that was nothing compared to her confusion as to what exactly he said.

By the way he phrased it, it would indicate that he knew her before all this happened. But when? She never met anyone like Chat Noir, she was certain if she did she could find him in her memories and pick him out.

The villain pulled back, still giving her that shit-eating grin and stood to walk away, leaving the heavily-breathing girl on the floor.

She covered her face with her hands, perfectly content to just lie there for the rest of the night.

They knew each other before all this, that much was certain. Yet as she pieced through all her memories, she couldn't find any indication of him. The only blond, green-eyed boy she knew was Adrien Agreste, but he was dead so there was no way he could be Chat Noir.

Even if he wasn't dead, there was no way it could be him. Sweet, kind, Adrien being that flirty, cocky, mischievous, villainous cat? There was no way, Adrien could never do anything of what Chat Noir has done.

She had to be missing something. Maybe she once let Chat Noir borrow a pencil in school, or perhaps served him in the bakery and she forgot about the encounter. Either were plausible options.

She groaned in exasperation, feeling a headache coming on. Was it too much to ask for answers?

...

"Holy shit, I kissed her."

"I know, you've only been saying that for the last ten minutes."

"Plagg, I kissed her!"

"I know. I'm not deaf."

Adrien gripped his hair in frustration, pacing in a line back and forth in his room. Plagg was sitting idly by on the boy's dresser, enjoying dinner and a show.

"I fucked up," the ex-model moaned. "Why the hell did I do that?"

"I don't know," Plagg drawled sarcastically, waving his cheese around. "I haven't been able to understand anything you do for about...let's see...three years, now?"

Adrien scowled, choosing not to answer him.

He shouldn't have kissed her this soon. Now he'll never be able to get her to like him. But it felt so right at the time, with their breaths mingling, her cheeks deliciously flushed, forget-me-not eyes wide and dilated as she looked at him...

He shook his head to get rid of the image in his mind. Now wasn't the time to get aroused, he had a more pressing matter at hand.

Like the issue of how she knew about his ring. There was no way she could've found out on her own. Yes, she was smart, but he didn't think the ring would be that noticeable. Most people who saw it just thought it was an accessory to complete his look, nobody could piece together that it was the very item that granted his powers, well, besides a kwami.

If she knew sooner, she would've tried to take it sooner. So she must have known about it just today. But how? Breakfast was as normal as ever, no questions about his Miraculous were asked. Then she went for a walk in the forest-

Wait. The forest. Could she have met someone there and they told her about him?

No. Who goes that deep into forests anyway, especially people who knew the secrets of his ring? In fact, no one knew about it except-

Adrien stopped his pacing.

It was possible, he was a strange, old man from what he could remember. And it seemed just like him to try to seek out the girl he held in his home. For what, he couldn't imagine. He could never understand the old Master and his mysterious ways. He still didn't understand why he gave him his powers in the first place.

"Well," Adrien muttered darkly with a chuckle. "That was certainly a mistake on his part."

He didn't have any solid evidence it was Master Fu talking to Marinette, yet a nagging feeling inside him kept trying to confirm his suspicions.

He grinned widely. It's been awhile since he's paid a visit to his old mentor.

...

After an awkward dinner with Marinette, who didn't even try to hold his gaze, Chat retreated to his room to leave the mansion. He didn't want Marinette to know he was leaving, he didn't have the time or patience to answer a bunch of questions about his whereabouts.

It was a long way to Paris, but thanks to his powers, the journey barely made him break a sweat. In a couple hours he found himself standing outside of the closed healing parlor, without a light on in the place at all.

If he was still a hero, he would've politely knocked and waited until Master Fu came to answer the door. However, that wasn't the case anymore. So he walked over to the side and managed to sneak in through a window. His night vision allowed him to see in the dark, until a light turning on caused him to blink.

When he opened his eyes he saw the old man himself, standing before him in typical sleep attire. He even had a striped nightcap on the top of his head with a puffball hanging on the end.

"Chat Noir. I was beginning to think you forgot all about me," he remarked with that calm smile the cat remembered seeing him wear all the time. In fact, Master Fu hardly looked any different since Chat had seen him. He was still short, still looked young for his rather impressive age, and still had those twinkling, brown eyes that could calculate your every move before you have even thought about it.

He donned a malicious smirk. "I could never forget about you, Master."

The old man nodded. "I'm glad you haven't forgotten your roots. After all, without me, you wouldn't even be standing here."

Chat chuckled and held his fist up, eyeing his ring. "Yes. I bet you regret giving it to me, now."

To his surprise, he shook his head in denial. "No, I don't. You're still meant to be the black cat."

Momentarily forgetting his purpose to be there, Chat barked out a mocking laugh. "I've destroyed so many things, in so many cities. Can you really say that you don't regret giving me the Miraculous?"

"The only thing I regret is not seeing your inner problems and trying to help."

The blond's lips pulled down into a frown, not knowing what to do in response to that. It wasn't everyday someone called him out on his past, well, except for Plagg, but he was used to it. It was strange to hear someone else point out his problems.

"Listen," he growled, anger settling in. "I didn't come here for a therapy session."

"Good," the old man replied with a humorous sparkle in his light brown eyes. "Because I'm a healer, not a therapist."

The blond's eye twitched. Master Fu remained as calm and bright as ever, regardless of the villain's increasing temper.

"I'm going to cut right to the chase," Chat continued as he crossed his arms, voice hard. "Stop talking to Marinette."

The grey-haired man blinked. "Marinette? Marinette, who?"

Chat's lips pulled back in a snarl. He menacingly took a step closer to Master Fu, to which the old man did nothing about, choosing to stand his ground.

"You know damn well which Marinette I'm talking about. There's only one staying at my home. Speaking of which, how the hell do you know where I live, anyway?"

"Such language, Adrien. Does your father know you've extended your vocabulary?"

The thief's jaw tightened in irritation. "Do not mention him," he hissed, the unspoken threat of if he should left hanging in the air.

"Why not?" Fu questioned, raising an eyebrow. "As I understand, he was the catalyst for all this. Why not mention him?"

Chat Noir squeezed his eyes shut as he ground out through clenched teeth, "shut. Up."

Master Fu nodded, knowing pushing and pressing the boy wouldn't get them anywhere. "Very well, Chat Noir."

"Finally, you listen for a change," the supervillain grumbled. "Now back to what I was saying." He paused to point a clawed finger at the Chinese man. "Stay away from Marinette."

"If it's your identity you're worried about, I won't tell her."

"That's not it!" Chat yelled. "Just don't go near her anymore. I don't want you corrupting her mind."

"Corrupting her mind?" Fu chuckled. "My, that's quite an accusation, Noir."

"You know what I mean," the cat insisted lowly. "You always were just a stubborn old turtle who loves to mess with people's heads. I'm not going to let you do that with Marinette."

"Hm," Fu hummed, stroking his short beard. "You seem to care a lot for this girl. And here I thought the only person you've only begun to care about was yourself."

"She's the only thing that matters," the thief replied. "And I won't have you confusing her."

"Confusing her, or helping her?"

The young man made an unintelligible growl.

"I feel that you still don't know the consequences of what you've done," Fu spoke. He took a step closer to the criminal, who by now was looking down at the ground in budding anger.

"Her parents are still devastated over her absence, not knowing whether their daughter is alive or dead. Children at the school have been smiling a lot less, especially her best friend. She's been taking comfort in another boy, who now has lost two important friends. What was his name..." He tapped his chin in thought. "Nino, I think?"

The criminal straightened at the mention of the more-than-familiar name. God, _Nino_. He forgot all about his ex-best friend. He briefly wondered how he was now, how he changed throughout the years.

"What I've done isn't that bad," Chat mumbled, partly in shame and partly in stubbornness. "She's still alive."

"You're the only one who knows that little detail," Fu reminded him.

"Then tell them!" he cried out in exasperation. "Just tell them she's alive! Leave me the fuck alone about this."

"Now that's a very impressive word I'm more than sure your father would've been proud of," Fu teased with a grin, the action only causing Chat to bare his teeth.

"But I can't tell them she's alive, Chat Noir. I'd get asked a lot of questions about how I know that. Pretty soon the police would be right at your doorstep."

"You know," Chat cut in, his anger evaporating to make room for curiosity. "Why didn't you ever tell the police who I really was? Why didn't you tell them where I live? You could've had me arrested years ago."

"Because I know things will turn out alright in the end," the Chinese Master replied, tone even and cool. "I know what I'm doing."

"What, you think you can predict how I'll act?" Chat snapped, turning his sparking green eyes to the healer.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I can. Your temper is rising again, you're about to take a step closer to me to try to intimidate me, and I can only assume you're going to make some half-decent animal growling noise and threaten me to not speak with your Marinette. Tell me, am I wrong?"

Chat Noir's eye began to twitch once again. This was mostly why he didn't see the man for all this time; he was an annoyance and a pest.

It was time to go before he committed a murder that night.

He turned and walked back towards the window, the same one he used to get in. Before climbing out, he regarded his old mentor with a glare.

"Remember what I said."

With that dark reminder, the criminal was gone.

Master Fu snickered in mirth. At least he got one of his predictions right.

...

The next day, in the afternoon, Sabine Cheng walked to her mailbox for the daily mail. Getting mail always brought a smile to her face, lasting from when she was a child. She was glad that there was something these days that could make the hint of a smile appear on her lips.

Today, instead of the usual bills, was one, large white envelope. The woman frowned and squeezed her eyes closed to keep the tears at bay when she saw to whom it was addressed.

With shaking fingers, she tore the letter open.

_Dear Marinette Dupain-Cheng,_

_Congratulations! You have been accepted to_

The letter fluttered to the ground when Sabine clutched at her face and sobbed. An older man in a red Hawaiian shirt watched the scene with a frown before continuing down the street.


	10. Chapter 10

Despite many hours passing since the encounter in the study, Marinette woke up the next day and still found her lips to be tingling from the criminal's kiss. Even though she had scrubbed her mouth with soap at least ten times, she could still taste a hint of mint on her bottom lip.

She had no idea why, their kiss couldn't have lasted longer than three seconds. She should've been able to walk away, no strings attached, yet she still couldn't get the taste and memory of him out of her mind.

Not to mention he had alluded to knowing her before all this happened. He hinted at it quite a few times since her stay here. She racked her brain trying to figure out when their meeting occurred, but couldn't come up with anything definite.

Then again, he could be doing it just to mess with her. He was a trickster, after all.

She closed her eyes in the shower and tilted her head back, letting the water rinse out the foamy shampoo from her hair. Her fingers sifted through her raven locks, helping the water get at every inch of her scalp.

When finished, she couldn't help but step back and simply let the warm water cascade over her body as she thought. This was the most relaxing place in the whole mansion, even more relaxing than her bed and sewing room. Here she was guaranteed to be alone, free to let her mind wander with no interruptions.

She sighed, deciding she had just about enough with thinking about that mangy cat. He was too cryptic to understand, she barely had any answers and here she was trying to be a detective and put what limited clues she had together to crack the code on him.

Her mind strayed to thoughts of home. Did everyone think she was dead? How were her parents? The bakery? How was the school taking her absence? Alya? Nino?

The young designer snorted at another idle question.

Did she ever get accepted at the Erika Carp fashion school? Her letter of acceptance or rejected should've arrived at her house by now.

Thoughts of her parents and friends resurfaced to the forefront of her mind. If only there was a way to get in contact with them. She had her cellphone, but there wasn't any reception or wi-fi here. The device was only good for playing games and checking the time.

Briefly, she wondered if perhaps she could send a letter to them, letting them know she was alright. It didn't her long to become discouraged however, knowing that Chat Noir most likely wouldn't allow her to have contact with the outside world.

Marinette finally turned off the water, not wanting to waste any more, and wrapped the pink towel around her before stepping out of the shower. As she pushed her feet into her slippers and walked out of the bathroom, she couldn't help but think of her idea.

She didn't actually know whether or not he'd say no. She was sure he'd refuse her request, but it couldn't hurt to try, right?

When she left her room for lunch, she found Chat Noir laying the plates of food on the table. He noticed her come in and smiled, a stark contract to the awkward glances the previous night during dinner.

"Good afternoon, Princess," he greeted politely.

She bobbed her head once. "Hello, Chat Noir."

And here comes the awkwardness. Marinette bit her bottom lip as her fingers anxiously twisted together, while Chat Noir looked like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world at that moment instead of standing in front of her.

The silence was broken when he sighed. His eyes kept flickering between her and the side of the room as his hand found the back of his neck.

"Listen," he began. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for kissing you like that. It was uncalled for, and I know you didn't want it, so I shouldn't have done it."

Sky blue eyes blinked in disbelief. He was actually apologizing for something? Chat Noir was apologizing to her?

Marinette ignored how he sounded despondent when saying how she didn't want his kiss.

Since when do supervillains ever say they're sorry, anyway? Could this be the start of something new...or, old?

She bit her bottom lip and stared into those strange, yet oddly captivating, cat-eyes.

"I forgive you."

His mouth parted in wonder, his cat ears atop his head even twitched. "Really?"

She nodded for emphasis. "Yes, I forgive you. I mean, you could've done worse."

The thief's eyes impossibly widened, this time his mouth fully dropped open in astonishment.

"Marinette, you..." His words were a mere, horrified whisper. She noted with confused surprise that his green eyes looked so pained. "You don't actually think I'd do something like that to you, do you?"

It took her a minute to gather her thoughts, she was completely perplexed by his sudden change in behavior. Why did the prospect of her being afraid he might take advantage of her terrify him and seem to hurt him so much? He was a villain, they weren't supposed to care if they instilled fear into the lives of others.

"Marinette," he spoke again, in the same pained murmur. "Princess. You know I'd never touch you like that, without your consent, right? I'd never hurt you. I-I'm sorry if I caused you to be afraid of me yesterday. I'll never do something like that again."

She could only stare in stupefied shock. He looked so scared and damaged, as though afraid to approach her, like an alley kitten being discovered by a curious human.

One thing was evident: he never wanted to hurt her. He's said it before, but now the fear is all too real. What was he even afraid of, anyway?

She couldn't ignore the 'without your consent' part. Did that mean he was interested in her? Normally she would've thought their kiss to be a dead giveaway to his feelings, but he could've been joking.

Although, he definitely wasn't joking now.

His black ears were drooped on his head as he gazed at her in sorrow, waiting for an answer.

She shuffled her feet, mouth opening and closing as she fought for a response.

"I-I'm not afraid of you." And strangely enough, she found she wasn't, not anymore. Her fear of him had slowly been dwindling since coming here, and now she found herself to be completely unafraid of the villain.

Because, in spite of being the bad guy, he was the good guy for her.

Chat's whole being perked up, his clover green eyes were alight with new hope but with doubt etched deep within.

"You're not?" His voice was a whisper, filled with optimism as he stared at her, waiting for the answer that he'd been waiting to hear since he brought her here.

She smiled.

"No."

...

Alya took her place in the bench by Nino's side, the spot that Adrien had once occupied all that time ago. It felt like forever since their group of friends was complete, and most of all, happy.

The young journalist had switched seats after Marinette left, finding that she couldn't sit alone. Nino was more than willing to let her switch, and Mme. Bustier had no qualms about the move either.

Nino was more than supportive after her best friend's loss. He normally walked around with her since he was her boyfriend, but every morning since the incident, he's been showing up at her house to walk her to school so she wouldn't have to be alone.

He was her shoulder to cry on, he accompanied her to her scoops (although at first it had been hard to do, but over time she was able to get back into her normal routines somewhat), and he was always willing to talk to her about the while situation.

In short, he was amazing.

Even though it's been awhile since Marinette's death, Alya was still recuperating. How could she not be? She was trying, as she knew her best friend wouldn't want her moping around like this, but it was just so hard.

It was hard to accept the fact that Marinette was just...gone. She would never see Alya's first published article, she'd never see her wedding, or any of her birthdays, she'd never see her first born, she'd never eat ice cream with her again, she'd never be able to have wheelchair races with her in a retirement home.

She would never be able to go to Erika Carp, her absolute dream school that she got accepted to.

Alya breathed deep, closing her eyes and taking a few seconds to open them again. She couldn't think about this now, she would not be an emotional wreck at school. Everyone expected her to break down in tears after it happened, but she held her head high and willed herself not to let it happen. She wouldn't lose her composure in public, she wouldn't.

Nino sensed her internal distress and reached over to take her hand in his. He rubbed small circles on the back of her hand with the pad of his thumb.

"You okay?" He whispered, frowning.

She nodded. "Yeah, yeah I'm okay."

He didn't say anything, even though he was perfectly aware that wasn't the case. He knew better than to ask questions. He'd been through this himself when he lost Adrien, so he knew that she didn't want to hear too many questions. She didn't want to hear any reminders of Marinette's absence, because hearing it made it all the more real, and all the more real to confront.

The school was still shaken from one of their favorite student's passing, but they were slowly picking up the pieces from their shattered minds.

They knew that one day, hopefully with time, they could overcome this.

And maybe kill the man that took their resident designer away.

...

Marinette held back on asking her questions of writing letters. She felt it wouldn't be the right time after their conversation earlier in the day.

Just because she wasn't afraid of him, didn't mean that they were instantly friends. She knew it was wrong to be friends with him, but it's not like she could be friends with anyone else in this place. He was the only one there, so she might as well get along with him, right?

Still, a possible friendship would take awhile. Especially since she's beginning to suspect that he may want her for more than friendship.

She had spent the day in her sewing room, working on some new designs and making new outfits. Chat had dropped in a few times, content to watch her work, even throwing in a few compliments and suggestions.

"You have excellent taste, Princess."

"I like it, but I think the black would fit more. See how it contrasts better with the pink?"

"Hm. How about making it long-sleeved instead of strapless? I think that's the current fashion, now."

It made her suspicions of him grow. He seemed to know a lot about fashion, judging by what he said, and how he overlooked her designs almost like how a professional designer would.

Tossing her musings aside at dinner, she decided to finally bring up her request.

"Chat?"

The man brought his head up, blinking in wonder at her. That was the first time she ever referred to him by his first name.

He shook off the fluttery feeling in his chest and answered her, plastering on a grin.

"Yes?"

She forced herself to meet his eyes. "I was wondering if I could write a letter to be sent home? So that my family and friends know I'm okay?"

His eyes enlarged in surprise, clearly he wasn't expecting that kind of question.

"Write a letter?" He repeated, perplexed.

He didn't say no, so she decided to press on.

"Yes. I just want them to know I'm okay. I won't write where I am or anything, I just want to tell them that I'm still alive." She looked up at him through her lashes, remembering how the guileless look would always sway her father. "Please?"

Chat couldn't help the tortured grimace on his face at that look. With her lower lip slightly put out, those dark lashes framing those sparkling eyes that stared so innocently up at him, it was hard to say no.

He had no idea what could happen should people learn that Marinette was safe and alive. Last night he had been so careless when telling Master Fu to reveal the truth, but now he was truly thinking of the possible consequences.

Would people try to go out looking for her? There was an equal chance they would, or would not. They would, because the idea of her being alive could spur countless people to rescue her. Or they wouldn't, because she was still the sacrifice for Paris's peace.

He knew the risks were too high of sending a letter. But he knew she had to be lonely here. She had no one else to talk to on a daily basis except himself, anyone would go crazy under such conditions.

Wait a minute. He's lived here all alone before she showed up.

Could he be crazy?

Huh, he supposed he was, at least a little bit. After all, isn't everyone a little crazy in their own way?

He allowed a small smile to grace his features. "Sure, you can send a letter. I'm going out tomorrow night for more supplies, I'll stop by Paris and deliver it to your bakery then."

He wasn't prepared for the gasp of happiness that flew out of her mouth, or the way she literally hopped in her seat, or the beaming smile she presented him with. He could only stare in a spellbound daze at the joy that radiated off of her.

"Thank you!"

"Y-You're welcome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently working on chapter 11 now, and so when I want to upload it to my FanFiction account I want to upload it here too. Finally this story is caught up to the one on FF.net lol. For future updates I'll always post updates on there first, so if you want the next chapter ASAP it'll be on FF a few minutes before on AO3. Also, I have other stories I have posted on FF and not on AO3, feel free to check them out :) My username is the same on there as it is on here.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a squirrel accomplishes what the Paris Police has been trying to do for years...

_Dear Everyone,_

_As you can see by this letter, I am alive and well. I can't tell you where I am, but I can tell you that I'm not being mistreated at all. Chat Noir is far from a cruel captor and has been treating me well considering the circumstances. Basically, I'm okay, and you don't have to worry about me._

_I miss all of you and love you very much. I'm not sure how long I'll be here, but to be honest, I have a feeling it won't be for much longer. Just please be patient during this time. I WILL see all of you again._

_With much love,_

_Marinette_

Alya didn't know what to think after reading the letter. She had come by after school to Tom and Sabine's bakery to check in on them (she did it about every other day to see how they were doing) when they presented her a letter, supposedly written by Marinette herself that was found in their mailbox.

They were stunned, and had at first been suspicious. But once they recognized Marinette's handwriting, they were immediately filled with relief, not to mention an enormous amount of curiosity.

Chat Noir had spared their daughter, but why? He was a supervillain, so why did he keep her alive?

At first they had thought the worst, that she became a source of 'entertainment' for him. But once they read the letter their concerns lessened. She claimed to not being mistreated, but was that true?

Alya, ever the skeptic, doubted her best friend's words. While she did believe the letter was written in her hand, she didn't think she wasn't being abused at all. It was possible that Chat Noir had threatened her to write those reassuring words.

Although the bigger question here was why. Why would he even bother with sending an 'I'm safe' letter when no one knew where to find Marinette? And even if they did, Paris agreed to the deal to trade the young girl for peace. There wasn't much they could do.

Alya wanted to just go search for her and kill the supervillain, but nobody felt very keen to her plan. Sure, they all wanted him dead, but it would put Marinette at risk if her captor found out about the manhunt for them.

But Tom and Sabine, for a rare moment, were just happy that their daughter was okay. So instead of Alya voicing her opinions, for a rare moment, she kept her mouth shut.

...

When Marinette asked, Chat Noir claimed to not have read her letter. Even when she had crossed her arms and gave him the look that would've made anyone back at home confess a secret to her, he still held by his statement that he did not peek.

A small courtesy, but it did increase her trust for him.

At lunch the next day she thanked him for allowing her to get into brief contact with her family and friends, highlighting the fact that as her 'captor' he didn't have to do that at all.

He simply shrugged and told her it was alright, that it was no big deal. Everything was fine, up until afterwards when she wanted to go out for a walk in the forest.

"What about your sewing room? Your designs are coming along nicely," he complimented, indirectly asking her to stay.

However, Marinette didn't see that.

Her eyebrows drew down in suspicion. "Yes, they are. But I would like some fresh air."

"You can always open a window," he responded cheekily, leaning against the fist laying on his cheek.

"Chat," she deadpanned. Was he serious?

"Marinette."

She rolled her eyes. "Look, I want to go for a walk in the forest and get some fresh air. You never had any problems about it before."

"Yes, well, that was before I found a problem out there," he retorted, now crossing his arms in front of his chest. She couldn't help but note that it looked like a firm chest, one that was pressed against hers not that long ago-

What? When did she start having thoughts like that?

She shook away the strange thoughts and quirked an eyebrow. "Problem? What kind of problem?"

"There's...a...bear out there!" he exclaimed, raising his arms in the air and wiggling his fingers. "A big, scary bear that can hurt you."

Once again her eyes went heavenward. "I think I'll take my chances." Not only did she need a break, but she also wanted to talk to Fu again. He was a nice companion to have, and she couldn't wait to tell him that Chat had allowed her to write a letter.

"Then I'll go with you!" he proclaimed, standing from his chair. "You can never be too careful."

Her eyes widened at this new offer. He wanted to go take a walk with her? "Um, that's okay, you don't have to-"

"No, I insist," he interrupted, quickly gathering the dirty dishware to only dump them in the sink. Marinette could only stare in bewilderment as he hurried to her side and smiled comically wide. "It'll be fun!"

"What kind of fun is there in a forest?" She couldn't help but ask. Why was he even acting like this? Did he think she was going to run away?

"Lots of fun!" He argued, placing a hand on the small of her back and guiding her out of the kitchen. When she looked down at the offending appendage, clearly perplexed by the action, he removed it and placed it on the back of his neck in a sheepish manner.

"Besides, I've been meaning to get some fresh air, too!"

She blinked in confusion. "But you went out for supplies and delivered my letter yesterday!"

"Well, today's a new day."

Marinette sighed, resigned to this new turn of events. She knew she wasn't going to be able to see Fu today. Although, she couldn't help but wonder what a day out with the alley cat would be like.

...

It was...actually turning out better than she thought it would.

They had left the mansion no later than fifteen minutes after breakfast. Marinette had brought her backpack and filled it with snacks and drinks for the pair, along with a sketchpad and a pencil in case a sudden wave of inspiration hit her.

She noticed that he had brought his baton with him. Briefly, she wondered if perhaps there was a danger in the forest after all.

"Chat? Maybe we should just stay home-"

She stiffened and clamped her mouth shut as soon as the last word was out of her mouth. Did she really just call the mansion 'home'? What was wrong with her today? Did she have a fever?

But the back of a hand pressed against her forehead proved her theory to be false.

The blond craned his neck to the side to look at her, a delighted smile playing about his lips. Luckily he didn't comment on her rephrasing of the mansion, instead replying with:

"I doubt I'll need it, but you can't be too careful."

Wait. Something wasn't adding up.

"But you said there was a bear in the forest. Why do you think you won't need your baton, then?"

"Ah-b-because the animals are frightened of me as soon as they hear my footsteps. I'm a force to be reckoned with, you know." He sent her a mischievous wink, to which she only rolled her eyes at.

But...why were the animals afraid of him?

"Chat, you never abused any of the animals, did you?" Her voice was a whisper of incredulity. Suddenly she was beginning to see him a new, unpleasant light. Why wouldn't he hurt an animal? He was still a criminal.

"No!" he shouted, bringing his hands up and waving them wildly. "No! I'd never hurt any animal! I was just kidding, it was a joke, I swear!"

The way he looked so scared, yet truthful, brought about an amused laugh from the girl's mouth. Chat looked at her with concern, though it mostly directed to himself. Laughing was good, right? That meant she didn't think he randomly hurt animals, right?

"Why do you care so much about what I think of you?" she asked after maintaining her control. "You're a villain, you shouldn't care what anyone thinks of you."

"Because your opinion is the only one that matters," he mumbled truthfully, green eyes gazing off to the side to avoid her inquiring blue ones.

Marinette stared at him in a stunned silence. What does she say to that? What did it mean?

"So," he cleared his throat and redirected his eyes back to her. "Shall we get going?"

She nodded, eager to push his earlier response to the back of her mind and deal with it later.

"Yeah."

They walked through the forest, with Chat Noir not even bothering to mark their places so they could find their way back. She voiced this concern to him but he said that he had great tracking skills while wearing the suit, and he also had a heightened sense of smell. He could find his way back with his eyes closed.

Marinette accepted the excuse and they continued on. She didn't know how far they had been walking until her feet started to get tired, and she requested that they have a rest. Chat granted her wish, which brought them to sitting together under a large tree's shade.

While he took out a bag of Curly Balls from her backpack to eat, she brought out her sketchbook to touch up a few designs. They sat in relative silence, up until she felt something small hit her nose.

Her eyes strayed from her page to the ground below her, where she spied a Curly Ball. Instantly she looked up in suspicion and saw Chat Noir staring away from her and chewing on his snack innocently. His lips were pressed together tightly, but she could see the edges of them twitch.

Busted.

"Did you throw this at me?" she questioned, holding up the tiny snack. She tried sounding stern, but the smile on her face ruined the entire purpose.

As though startled, he whipped his head back around to look at her in astonishment.

"Me? Throw something at you? I'd never!"

"Oh?" she replied, raising both eyebrows. "Who was it then?"

"It was probably a squirrel," he answered, his mouth slowly stretching into a grin.

"A squirrel? But you're the one with the bag of Curly Balls," she pointed out, barely suppressing her giggles.

"I was feeding this adorable squirrel with some, I guess it got a little mischievous and threw one at you."

"Yes, Chat, because squirrels regularly throw things at people." She shook her head with a grin.

"No," he drew out the syllable, an evil glint in his eyes. "But it looks like they steal pencils."

"Wha-?" Marinette looked down to her side, where she placed down the sketchbook and pencil, only to see her writing utensil was, in fact, missing-

-and held by a small, furry brown squirrel just two feet in front of her.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, annoyed. "Give that back!"

The little animal simply stared at her, unmoving.

Marinette got up and took a step towards it. She replaced her expression to more of a sweet, inviting one. "Here, squirrelly, squirrelly-"

"Squirrelly?" Chat repeated, laughing.

Marinette continued as though she hadn't heard him, but making a mental note to somehow get back at him for that.

She reached out a hand. "Just give me the pencil, now...that's it..."

However, it seemed the creature had other plans. It placed the pencil in between its teeth and darted off for the tree she and Chat had been sitting under, going off high into the branches until it was no longer visible.

"Hey!" she shouted and took off after it. She ignored the feline's yowls of laughter and stood at the base of the tree, looking for the little demon to no avail. She didn't even see any leaves move.

She stomped over to the laughing criminal, hands on her hips as she regarded him with a frown. His tanned cheeks were pink and his bright teeth shone in a brilliant smile.

In a fleeting moment, she couldn't help but notice that he looked particularly handsome when he laughed.

But then she remembered the reason why he was laughing and narrowed her eyes at him, patiently waiting for him to stop. She took to crossing her arms and tapping her foot against the grass to pass the time.

At long last he ceased his laughter, though he gazed up at her with lingering amusement in his eyes. Yet at her scolding look they darkened with seriousness and the leftover smile was wiped from his face.

"What?" he asked.

What? What? He had the nerve to ask 'what'?

"A squirrel stole my pencil and you laughed," she growled.

At her words he snorted, the humor he held of the situation making a comeback. "Yeah, I've never actually seen something like that before. It was pretty funny."

"Oh I'd say you thought it was more than just 'pretty funny'," she mocked, still not relenting on her glare.

"Aw, come on, Princess! It was hilarious!"

"Maybe for you, but not for me. That was the only pencil I had."

"Well," he said, mouth quirked into a half-smile. "There's nothing we can do about that now."

Her eyes suddenly brightened with devilry, and her lips curved into a calculating smirk. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. Aren't cats skilled at climbing trees?"

His mouth drew down in a line. "Marinette, don't tell me you're thinking what I think you're thinking."

She said nothing, only lifting her eyebrows and smiling at him.

"I am not chasing after a squirrel," he refused vehemently. "It's just a pencil, Marinette."

"But it was my only one!"

"You'll survive."

She pouted and stubbornly turned away from him. A few seconds of tense silence later, an idea popped into her head. She had no idea if it would work on him, due to his villainy, but she had to give it a shot.

The guilt trip.

Marinette relinquished the anger showing on her face and sat down next to him. He tilted his head as he regarded her warily, but didn't say anything. In turn she looked at him and puffed out her bottom lip as she peered up at him beneath her lashes.

"That was my only pencil, and now I won't be able to draw," she explained forlornly. She turned away to pay attention to the ground, where she twirled a finger in sadness. "You didn't even do anything to help me. All you did was laugh."

His cat ears drooped as he frowned. "I'm sorry, Princess. We'll go home, and then you'll be able to draw again. I'll even get you a pack of brand new pencils when I go out next, and some colored ones, too."

"But I was having so much fun out here," she protested brokenly, returning her sorrowful sapphire orbs to him. "I liked spending the day with you."

It honestly wasn't a lie. He proved to be a good person to take walks with through the forest today.

She wasn't expecting the fierce blush to light up his cheeks, or how he bit into his lip as if he was nervous about something. She mentally questioned why he reacted that way, but filed it away for later.

"I-I liked spending the day with you, too," he stammered. "But I'm not going after-"

"Please, Chat?" she begged, shuffling closer to him. "I wanted to retouch my designs. What if I don't have the same ideas when I get home? What if I forget?"

His emerald eyes strayed off to the side.

"It will only take a second," she continued, and dared to take a hand that was supporting him in his sitting position. His head spun to her so quickly she was surprised he didn't get whiplash, his mouth was partially open in astonishment.

She couldn't help but feel how warm his hand was. As she lazily circled her thumb on the top of his hand, she peeked up at him again to see his cheeks gained a fresh coat of red.

"P-Princess? Why are you-?"

"It shouldn't be too hard for you, to get a pencil from a squirrel. You've stolen much larger things in impossible situations. A squirrel shouldn't be a match for you."

And now, stroke the ego.

"Well, obviously not," he bragged, his earlier bashfulness forgotten at her praise. "But-"

She leaned her face closer to his, although she couldn't explain why she did so. Now his bravado was gone, replaced by wonder as his breath hitched. "Didn't you promise me that night in my room that I would have whatever I wanted with you?"

"Y-Yes-"

"Surely a pencil shouldn't be too hard for you to retrieve for me." Her lips barely brushed against his. Her face felt like it was on fire, her eyes were half-lidded but alarm bells were blaring in her head. What was she doing? This wasn't how the plan was supposed to go!

He stayed still, as his eyelids lowered as well. His voice was a husky whisper as he answered her, "no, it wouldn't."

"Could you please get it back for me? Please?"

"I-I-"

One more push, just one more...

"I'll make it worth your while. Please, _minou_?"

She had no idea where that line came from, but she had no time to think it over when he suddenly brought his hand up and cupped the back of her neck. She gasped at the new contact, and his eyes were brightened with a new kind of light.

He smirked wickedly at her, and suddenly she had a sinking feeling that maybe she should've just listened to him before and went home instead.

"You make a convincing argument, Princess," he purred. Marinette felt a shiver go down her spine, though it wasn't in fear. "You better have a nice payment for when I come back."

She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding when he released her and made for the tree. He jumped and sunk his claws in the bark, in no time he was crawling up into the tallest branches.

The young designer stood and walked under the tree, trying to pinpoint a leather-clad body, but could only see rustling leaves.

"I found his home!" She heard him shout. "And I see him in there! This'll be like taking money from a-OW!"

Marinette tilted her head in confusion at the cry of pain. "Chat? Are you okay?"

"He bit me!" he exclaimed, sounding purely insulted.

She brought a hand to her mouth to muffle her giggles.

"Hey! Give me that-OW! Stop that!"

She couldn't hold back any longer, as a peal of laughter escaped past her mouth. A squirrel was accomplishing what Paris's police has been trying to for the last three years: hurt Chat Noir.

"I'm warning you, I will cataclysm your entire ho-OW! That was my nose!"

She crashed onto the ground, literally rolling with laughter. Her cheeks were hurting from smiling so widely as she clutched her sides.

This continued for awhile, Marinette had no idea how long he had been up there. But he finally returned, looking more haggard in his appearance. Bits of leaves were in his even-messier locks and his nose looked slightly red. Yet in his fist, held tightly, was a single, perfectly intact pencil.

The girl rose from the ground and tried to hold back her laughter at how he looked, but she did feel a bit bad for him. It didn't sound like a pleasant experience, being attacked by a squirrel.

But it was still funny.

"Here," he grumbled, holding it out to her. She happily accepted it and thanked him, even sifting her fingers through his hair to get out the leaves to express her gratitude. He seemed to calm at that, as his shoulders that were previously hunched up now relaxed and he let out a sigh.

"Now, about that payment..."

She stopped, removing her hand to stare at him uneasily.

Shit. She forgot about 'making it worth his while.' Why, oh why, did she say that?

He grinned. "I'll cash that in at a later date. Now, let's go home. The sun will be setting soon."

She could only nod, stupefied, as she stood there. On one hand she was glad he dismissed it for now, on the other she was worried of what they payment would be in the future.

But neither were aware of the pair of knowing brown eyes and the equally secretive smile from a nearby bush.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t planning on updating Selfless now, instead I wanted to focus on a couple other stories before updating this. But since today’s my birthday and I always update on that day, I decided to give you guys a ‘present’ and update my more popular story :) Hope you enjoy!

Marinette tried her best not to laugh on the walk home-er, the _mansion_ , as her mind kept replaying the moments when Chat kept yelling in pain because of a tiny squirrel.

Alas, she didn’t seem to be doing a good job, due to the blond continuously giving her pointed looks as they walked on. He didn’t vocally warn her not to laugh, but the burning green of his irises that practically screamed ‘I dare you’, was enough of a caution.

Besides, she had a more pressing matter at hand. Namely, the deal of ‘making it worth his while’ if he retrieved the pencil for her, which he accomplished. He hadn’t taken the payment as soon as he completed the task, leaving Marinette in worried suspense.

What exactly did he have in mind? At this point she didn’t really have much to give him, only a few things she brought from home were truly hers. The food, shelter, clothing, etc. were all his. Which left nothing much else to give him.

Then there was the issue of when he was going to demand that payment. It could be tonight, or tomorrow, or the next day, or so on and so forth.

Or, maybe he was going to let her off scot-free and was just messing with her into being worried about the deal.

She bit her lower lip as she mentally discarded the idea.

No. Chat Noir may be a trickster, but she knew that he would always collect on his payments.

But when? Knowing him, he would likely strike when she would least expect it.

“Here we are,” Chat suddenly announced, effectively dragging her out of her musings. Marinette blinked, unaware that they had finally come back to the mansion again. Just how lost in her thoughts was she not to notice?

“Oh, uh, great,” she replied, unable to think of a more intelligent response. The blond arched an inquisitive brow, but said nothing else as he walked to the front door and patiently waited for her after he opened it.

She silently followed behind him, going inside as he politely held the door open for her, with him only shutting it when she was fully inside.

“So, thanks for walking with me in the woods. It was fun,” she commented with a thankful smile, yet when she remembered the squirrel incident it turned into a greatly amused smirk. “Especially when-“

“Don’t even go there,” he growled out, though the edges of his lips twitched, revealing to her that he wasn’t really mad. “I’ll go cook dinner. I’ll find you when it’s ready, Princess.” He gave her a playful grin before heading towards the kitchen.

Marinette stared after him with a fond smile of her own, until she promptly snapped out of it. Shaking her head, she began to retreat to her room.

What was wrong with her? Lately she had begun noticing certain things about the criminal, things that a (kind of)captive should _not_ notice. Like how firm his chest looked, or how the sun hit his blond hair just right, causing it to look like a halo was around his head, or how he endearingly called her ‘Princess’, or how his smirks and grins caused her heart to beat just a bit faster…

No. No, no, no. She shouldn’t be thinking like this. This was wrong! He’s a supervillain, he used her as a bargaining chip for peace, he repeatedly wreaked havoc in Paris and the whole of France.

He wasn’t like Adrien, sweet, kind, and generous who would never hurt anybody. Sure, they may both have blond hair and green eyes, but Adrien was _not_ that villainous cat.

Maybe that was why her heart was confused. She subconsciously noticed their physical similarities and now her heart was projecting her feelings onto the first boy who even remotely resembled her long-lost crush.

She breathed out a sigh of relief as she opened her bedroom door. She wasn’t developing feelings for Chat Noir, she was just confused. That was it. She just needed to mentally sort out all the differences between the two boys and her heart would go back to the right path.

There was no need to worry at all.

Still, she wished she at least had Alya here to talk to. The potential and headstrong journalist would’ve been more than helpful at supplying reasons to Marinette of why she couldn’t be developing feelings for the alley cat.

She wished she at least had a picture of Adrien with her to look back on and remind herself of who was more worthy of receiving romantic feelings. But all throughout her stuttering and bumbling sort of friendship with him, she never once worked up the courage to ask him for a picture with her. Nor did she ever risk trying to sneakily take a picture of him, because of her worry of being caught.

She did have his old magazines in her bedroom back in Paris, but she didn’t think of taking one with her when she moved here. Now she wished she had.

She sat down on her bed, already having deposited her backpack on the floor, and laid back on the covers with a tired sigh.

Okay, this was going to be easy. Adrien=Good, Chat Noir=Bad.

Then again, Adrien could be dead and she should really move on, preferably with someone that’s actually alive-

But then that alive person should be a good guy! Not a villain, not Chat Noir.

She smiled confidently. There, that settles it. She has absolutely no feelings for that stupid cat, nope! None at all. It was illogical to have feelings for her captor.

Her smile crumbled as she grabbed a pillow to try to smother herself with, letting loose an agonized groan from the back of her throat.

This might be harder than she thought.

…

Marinette could barely look at Chat throughout dinner due to her mind’s current maelstrom of emotions.

She had to distance herself from him, was her new ploy of trying to get herself to be unaffected by again. If she didn’t try to engage him in conversation or look at him, then she wouldn’t like him anymore. It was a genius move, if she did say so herself.

Chat Noir, meanwhile, was internally panicking over the her silence. Was she mad at him? What did he do this time? Her attitude was vastly different from their time in the woods and when they came back home. What could’ve changed her viewpoint on him so quickly?

He looked to his plate with a frown marring his features. Great, just when he thought they were getting some progress done…

Still, they couldn’t just pick at their food in awkward silence. Someone had to talk eventually, but since Marinette looked like she was content with being quiet, it looked like he was going to have to speak.

He cleared his throat, the action evoking her to draw her head up.

He flashed her a calm smile that did nothing to reveal his inner worry. “Do you like the food?”

Gratin dauphinois, an easy and simple enough dish to make when he was pressed for time to cook. He could’ve made something more elaborate, but then that would’ve made dinner time way past the normal hour.

She nodded, presenting him with a small smile of her own. “It’s very good, Chat. Thank you.”

A sparkle of mischief glimmered in his eyes as he beamed at her, mouth set wide in a cheeky grin. “Why you’re welcome, Princess. It was really nothing this cat couldn’t handle.”

Something sparkled in her own bluebell eyes as her lips curved up into a grin of her own. “Are you proud of your ability to cook, Chat?”

“Of course I am,” he replied confidently. “I have the most _paw_ fect cooking skills in France!”

He knew he was extremely over-exaggerating, but at least it was working to get Marinette to talk more and open up to him. Her giggling alone was enough to brighten his mood.

“I’m sure France would love to know that its most notorious enemy is really a secret chef,” she laughed. “I wonder how they would react if they knew?”

His smile drooped drastically as a small blush lit his cheeks. If his country knew that the person responsible for stealing from them and destroying things was really just a love-struck fool who cooked every day for her, provided her with clean clothes, water, and other necessities, he would never live it down.

“Can I trust you to keep it a secret?” he asked, voice brought down to a low murmur as he mentally recovered from the brief embarrassment to smirk wickedly at her.

“That depends,” she replied silkily, eyes never leaving his. “Can you make it worth my while?”

Chat’s eyes instantly went wide, this time his cheeks housed a brilliant red blush that put his earlier one to shame.

Did-did she really just say that? Dare he ask, but was she _flirting_ with him? Granted, he flirted with her from time to time (okay, maybe a _lot_ more than that), but was she actually reciprocating his attentions?

Marinette’s reaction was roughly the same, only with her own twist. Her eyes were set comically wide as she covered her mouth with a hand, obviously in disbelief of how she just blatantly flirted with him. From what he could see of her cheeks that her hand didn’t cover, they were a fierce pink. Even her nose was slightly pink, making the freckles on the bridge of her nose stand out even more.

For a few seconds, neither of them moved, until she hastily removed her hand from her lips.

“I-I gotta go. Dinner was nice, bye!”

She moved out of the room like the flames of hell were at her heels.

Chat leaned back in his chair, quietly shaking his head back and forth in confusion.

What just happened?

…

“What did I just do?!” Marinette quietly hissed as she paced the length of her room, holding both of her hands at the side of her head. If there was another person in the room they would immediately conclude that she was a lunatic, given her furious pacing, wild eyes, and how she kept mumbling to herself.

She couldn’t believe it. What had come over her just then? First that little display in the woods, not this? She only wanted to play along for a little bit, to tease him, not practically invite him to her room!

Okay, maybe that last one was going too far, but still!

She took a few calming breaths, like how Alya used to instruct her to whenever she was worrying about dying an old, virgin maid because Adrien would never love her.

If Alya was here, she would tell her that she was over-reacting about a stupid little sentence. It meant nothing, he would probably ignore it and they would continue on the way they have been. It was nothing to get worked up over.

Or, she would probably say that, after smacking her upside the head for flirting with public enemy number 1.

She stopped her pacing to face plant on her bed.

_Relax, Marinette, it’s going to be fine. He’ll ignore it, I’ll ignore it. We’ll both acknowledge that it meant absolutely nothing and go back to the way things were._

But it was probably better to stay locked in her room for the night. Call her a coward, but she didn’t feel up to meeting him face-to-face again so soon.

 

 

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't planning on updating so soon, but inspiration struck, so... xD

"Oh my God, do you really think she was flirting with me?" Adrien eagerly asked, pacing the length of his room while his kwami sat on his pillow, feasting on a camembert wheel. His holder normally only gave him a few wedges of the cheese, but in his flustered state he ended up giving him the whole wheel instead.

Plagg certainly wasn't complaining, although he would like to tell the blond to stop overreacting.

"Yes, kid, she was flirting with you. Now can you shut up, you're distracting me from my delectable camembert," he scornfully suggested before cuddling up to the smelly cheese of his desires.

"But this is serious!" Adrien claimed, immediately walking over to the bedside and crouching down so that he was eye-level with the kwami. "I think she may be finally starting to like me! What do I do?"

Plagg sighed whilst tearing his hold away from his meal. It seemed he wouldn't be able to properly enjoy his cheese until he offered some of his other-worldly advice.

"You want my honest opinion?" he asked sagely.

The man before him nodded, green eyes bright and ears eager to listen.

"Just keep doing what you've been doing before. Keep being a gentleman and all that." The ancient god's eyes quickly turned solemn, and suddenly the ex-model could see all the years of experience in his eyes.

"Keep being _Adrien Agreste_."

…

Luckily for Marinette, the next morning during breakfast Chat Noir acted completely normal, as if the disaster during dinner the previous night didn't happen at all. When he turned to her and flashed her the beaming smile he always presented to her every morning, she couldn't help but breathe out a mental sigh of relief.

However, she still wanted to see Fu. She missed the old man, he was a pleasant person to talk to and a great confidante despite having known him for such a short time. There was just something about him that persuaded her to trust him.

However, for some reason Chat didn't want her going out into the forest alone. So she knew that in order to go talk to Fu, she was going to have to sneak out. She wasn't aware of what triggered this new, unspoken rule, but she wished she could find out. She definitely knew it wasn't because of some random bear suddenly in the forest.

As a result, after breakfast she told Chat that she wanted to get to work on sewing her designs in the sewing room, meaning she couldn't be disturbed all day. He looked mildly disappointed for a couple seconds, until he shrugged with a half-grin and agreed to give her space.

Marinette retreated to the sewing room while he got to work on clearing the table. For a few minutes, she actually considered following through with her word and staying there for the day. It wasn't a lie that she needed to get to sewing her designs, she had gotten behind on them. And she hated liars, and lies in general. If she actually completed her plan, then she would be nothing more than a hypocrite.

She closed her eyes, releasing a breath while shaking her head to clear it. Maybe it was time to consider that not all lies are bad, that sometimes a person may have to lie for a good reason.

And she considered lying to talk to her new friend a fairly good reason.

She waited a few minutes more, until she could hear no sound of his footfalls. Quietly, she opened the door and tip-toed out, making sure to gently tug the door shut behind her. With a cautious look to the left and right, and with no Chat Noir in sight, she made her trek to the main door as fast as light.

She didn't stop to think of her good luck before opening the door and closing it behind her. She didn't pause in her running to consider the fact that Fu may not even be at the stream today. But whenever she was there, he was there as well, and so she hoped the pattern would continue.

Luckily, he was there, as though he was patiently waiting for her all morning. He turned when he heard her approach, gifting her with a warm smile that made her immediately return the expression.

"Hello, my dear," he greeted lightly, though chuckled as he did a once-over of her pink cheeks and heaving chest. "Although you look a bit winded. Are you alright?"

"Yes," she gasped, sitting down beside him on the grass. "I'm alright. I-I well, I admit I had to sneak out to see you. Chat doesn't want me going into the woods alone anymore."

"Is that so? I wonder why," he replied with a peculiar gleam in his eye the young designer couldn't place. "And did I hear wrong, or did you just refer to him by his first name?" The ghost of a grin flickered across his features as he said this, the question itself making Marinette pause and look away.

"Well, 'Chat Noir' can be a mouthful to say. Saying 'Chat' is easier…"

Fu nodded. "Of course."

"I mean," she continued, already regretting it. When was she going to learn not to babble? "It's not like we're _friends_ or anything."

"I wouldn't expect you to be."

"That would be ridiculous! He's responsible for France's pain, and he practically robbed me of my future. I don't like him at all."

"I can't imagine who would."

"Yep! Can't stand him!"

Fu raised an eyebrow, immediately crashing down her hopes of convincing him of her hatred for the feline villain.

Marinette let loose a defeated sigh. "Alright, maybe I can stand him a little. He's kinda nice, and kinda funny," she paused in her compliments as a small, fond smile bloomed across her face. "And he's helpful, you know he doesn't let me do any kind of work around the house?"

Fu's brown eyes practically sparkled as he smirked. "I had no idea."

"For a captor, he actually doesn't really act like one," she finished. Two seconds passed, smile still stuck in place, before it was taken away by the despaired wail that erupted from her throat.

"What's wrong with me?" she moaned into her hands. "I shouldn't be thinking like this."

She felt a hand tenderly pat her shoulder in comfort.

"You're out of the world's eyes, my dear. So it shouldn't matter what you think, yes?"

"Yes, but still!" she argued. "He's a supervillain. I should hate him, but I don't."

She should hate him. He virtually kidnapped her in exchange for leaving Paris alone. He terrorized her country for three years, turning his back on them after he promised them all that he would protect them. He lied to everyone, she should despise him.

"What's wrong with me?" she repeated brokenly, not removing her hands from her face. Even when she felt her fingertips become wet.

"There's nothing wrong with you," Fu consoled, still keeping his hand on her shoulder for support. "Believe me, there is nothing wrong with how you feel. Trust me when I say that everything is going right so far, that there will be a happy ending."

"How is everything going right?" she retorted, removing her hands to reveal her tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes. "How do you know?"

Before she believed that somehow she would get back to her friends and family, she even wrote it in her letter. But with these new, complicated feelings her brain was honestly a mess and she could barely think straight.

"Call it an old man's intuition," he replied with a cheeky grin. "Do not fret, my dear," he crooned, taking out a tissue from his pocket to give to her. She gratefully accepted it and promptly wiped her eyes and cheeks. "Everything will naturally fall into place. In fact, it's already starting to," he informed with a secretive spark in his brown orbs.

Marinette stopped to peer at him quizzically. "I feel like you're not telling me something…"

"Nonsense," Fu answered swiftly, smiling. "Just an old man's ramblings, all of that was. You know, I think what you need is a special drink."

Not meeting the curious blue eyes watching his every move, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small, glass bottle. It truly looked like something seen in a cartoon, what with its tiny size.

Marinette narrowed her eyes at the strange bottle. "Um-?"

"This is a drink simply meant to rejuvenate you, made from natural herbs," Fu explained once meeting her eyes again. "One drink and you will feel revitalized."

She didn't say anything for a few seconds. On one hand, her instincts told her not to accept a drink from a person she hardly knew. On the other hand, she _was_ feeling weakened and tired, and Fu seemed to be a kindly old man with no intentions of harming her.

Pursing her lips, she reached out and took the small bottle.

"I recommend drinking it now, it takes a while to kick in," Fu advised.

Still remaining silent, she held it in between her index finger and thumb as she rotated it around. She didn't know what to look for in a possibly poisoned drink, but it looked harmless enough. Besides, what could such a tiny amount of liquid do?

"Alright," she conceded. "Thank you."

After removing the even smaller cork, she tipped her head back and downed the contents. In reaction her face instinctively scrunched up, her eyes squeezing themselves shut and her mouth twisting into a tight pout. She looked like she just got done sucking on a lemon. It certainly tasted that way, to her.

"It is a little sour," he admitted sheepishly upon seeing her current state.

She opened her eyes after swallowing. "It wasn't that bad," she wheezed out, not wanting to hurt his feelings as she gave back the bottle.

Fu chuckled. "I appreciate your sincerity. Now, while I would love to sit and talk with you all day, I think it's time you should head back. Chat Noir will be missing you."

She probably should. She knew that he promised not to bother her, but knowing that courteous alley cat he would try randomly offering her a snack or something to drink.

And when he learned she wasn't even there in the first place…

"You're right," she agreed, starting to stand. "Thanks for the drink, Fu. I feel better already. And it was nice seeing you again!"

"You too as well, Marinette," he returned just as kindly.

With that last farewell, she turned and started in the direction where she came.

However, on the way back, she noticed herself feeling hotter. Like the sun's rays were beating on her head. But that was impossible, the trees were providing more than enough shade for her. Come to think of it, her throat felt a little scratchier too.

She cleared her throat and continued on, mentally making a note to find allergy medicine back at the mansion. She hadn't suffered from allergies since she was a child, but maybe they were making a comeback? It made sense, she supposed.

Marinette kept walking back with the intention in mind, yet just as she was in front of her destination, her world began to tilt. Black spots invaded her vision as she hunched over, suddenly feeling very weak.

What was happening to her?

…Fu didn't really poison her, did he?

He wouldn't.

She felt the breath leave her lungs as she collapsed in the grass.

…

Marinette was aware of one thing.

Whatever she was laying on, was not the grass she recalled falling on. In fact, this felt more like a bed. _Her_ bed, to be exact.

Then came the realization of her throat feeling raw. And how she felt almost unbearably hot. She needed water, and she needed it quick.

She blindly dragged a foot over the edge, since she still hadn't opened her eyes, when she felt her leg being pushed back under the covers.

Ugh. Why under the covers? She was hot! Didn't this person understand her inner turmoil?

"Marinette? Please, open your eyes!"

Huh. By the person's tone of voice, it sounded like they cared. If they cared, then why wouldn't they remove the blankets off her body? Seriously, she felt like she was being cooked alive! Which wasn't a pleasant feeling.

"Princess, please. Please, you're scaring me," they begged.

Princess…funny, the only one who called her that was Chat Noir.

Wait a minute. That _was_ Chat Noir!

And she was scaring him? Him, a supervillain? That was hilarious!

"Princess," he repeated. "Come on, I know you can hear me. Please, please, open your eyes!"

Well, since he asked so nicely.

Groaning from the effort, she managed to open her eyes in a squint. Her vision blurred for a second, at first seeing only a black blob, but in a few seconds everything was crystal clear.

"Thank God," he cried out in relief, reaching over the bedside to envelope her in a hug.

Ugh, he was hot! Too much body heat!

"Don't ever scare me like that again," he breathed into her ear, his voice a rich murmur that sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. All of a sudden, she didn't mind the added heat anymore.

But there was still something she needed.

"Water," she choked out, her voice cracking. It felt like she swallowed nails, that was how much her throat hurt.

Chat immediately got off her to grab the glass already filled with clear water to the brim. Damn, he came prepared.

Wordlessly he placed a hand under her head to gently tilt herself up, and used his other hand to bring the glass to her mouth. She ended up finishing the entire glass before throwing her head back down onto the pillow.

"What happened?" he demanded, setting the glass back on the nightstand. "You said you were going to be in your sewing room all day, and then I find you passed out outside! Do you know how worried I was?!"

"Judging by how much you begged me to open my eyes, I'd say pretty worried," she giggled.

Chat's cheeks turned pink for the quickest moment before fading back to their natural color. He glared sternly at her.

"Why did you lie to me and sneak out in the first place? What if you died out there?"

"But I didn't," she pointed out. "You rescued me," she mused, on the verge of another giggle. "Like a superhero."

He stilled, frowning, before shaking his head.

"You're delirious," he muttered. Releasing a huff of exasperation, he reached to the nightstand again and took the thermometer.

"Okay, open up," he instructed, sitting down at her bedside. Marinette smirked prior to opening her mouth comically wide.

The blond snickered slightly at the amusing sight. "Not that much, Princess. Come on, lift up your tongue so I can take your temperature."

She obeyed, allowing him to stick the tip of the thermometer under her tongue. After she closed her mouth on top of it, he pressed the button to turn it on.

"Now, no talking until you hear the beeping," he spoke. She silently nodded her head, using her fingers to mime zipping her lips shut.

He chuckled, leaning his elbow on his knee as he patiently waited for the results. In all honesty, he didn't really know what he was doing. He was no doctor. But he knew the basics, and hopefully that was all that Marinette needed.

At the sound of the beeps, she opened her mouth once more, allowing him to retrieve the thermometer.

"Can I talk now?" she whispered, her voice scratchy.

"Not with that sore throat, you can't," he replied amusedly as he checked the screen.

39.2 Celsius

He grimaced, knowing that was a high temperature to have and not be in the hospital. Good thing he already anticipated her having a fever, and had the pills she needed to take.

Unscrewing the cap, he tilted the container and shook, drawing out a single, white pill and presenting it to her with it on the cap.

"I'll get you more water if you need it to swallow," he offered when she didn't reach out to take it.

But she stubbornly shook her head. "I can't swallow pills," she protested.

Chat blinked. "What?"

"I can't swallow pills," she repeated, crossing her arms together and pouting like a toddler. "I choke on them. I need _liquid_ medicine."

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and counted to five before letting it out through his nose.

_Mon Dieu._

"I'm afraid pills are the only option, Princess. I don't have any liquid medicine."

"Then go out and _get_ some," she retorted as if that was the most obvious answer.

"I can't just go out and steal some medicine," he protested. "Please do me a favor and just take the pill?"

"I can't! I'll choke! Just go out and get some, I'll be fine."

He gritted his teeth in annoyance. Who knew his Princess could be such a brat when she was sick?

"I'm not making a special trip for medicine that _we already have_."

"But you just said you don't have liquid medicine!"

One more breath, and one more count to five.

"Marinette, take the pill."

"No!"

"You have a fever, you have to take it."

"I don't have to do anything."

"When your health is at risk you do."

"This wouldn't be happening if you just left me home. I already had liquid medicine there!"

He growled, turning away from her. Damn, she had a point. He brought her here, with the promise of having everything she needed. And what she needed was liquid fever medicine.

He sighed, mentally calculating the nearest town and the closest pharmacy.

"You're sure you'll be okay?" he surrendered at last, flashing her a serious look.

"I'll be fine," she reassured, brushing off his concern. "I'm not that sick."

"I'd beg to differ," he mumbled, remembering her high temperature. He hated to leave her, but he knew the longer he waited then the more her health would deteriorate and the more her fever would rise.

"I'll bring you more water and I'll bring you up some soup," he consented. Frowning, he leaned close to her face, making her stop and widen her eyes at his close proximity.

"And if I find out that while I was gone you got out of your bed, you're going to be punished," he threatened.

She blinked, until her eyes settled into a lidded look that momentarily made him pause.

"Is that a promise?" she purred out silkily.

The criminal gulped, wasting no time in peeling himself back and coming to a stand.

"I'll be back soon," he vowed after clearing his throat. "Remember, stay in your bed."

"Yes, sir," she replied, giggling.

With one last glance, he turned around and walked out of the room.

He groaned, sliding a gloved hand down his face.

"The things I do for love…"


	14. Chapter 14

This was probably the most heroic thing he's done in years.

Back when he was the hero of Paris, he would not have hesitated to go out of his way to bring someone medicine if they needed it. But ever since he turned to villainy, desires of doing generous gestures like that ceased to exist.

Well, until now. Because he'd be damned if Marinette died by a completely curable fever on his watch.

As he vaulted high above the trees using his staff, toward the small town a few miles from the forest, he couldn't stop worrying over the girl he left behind at the mansion. Would she be okay? He left her a full cup of ice-cold water and a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup for her to have, hopefully that would be enough.

He instinctively scrunched up his face as he thought about opening up the _canned_ soup. She deserved fresh, homemade soup, not the kind in the can. She deserved the best. She _was_ a princess after all, in his eyes. And princesses only received the most delicious, fresh food.

He was perfectly capable of making homemade chicken noodle soup. However, the problem was that it took a few hours to make, not to mention her medicine delivery would be delayed since he had to go buy the right ingredients.

Well, it wouldn't take that long, right? Not if he prioritized his time. All he had to do was run in the pharmacy, grab the medicine, go to the closest supermarket, find all the ingredients, then rush back home all while avoiding capture by the police.

He paused in his thought process, one detail drawing out a chuckle.

He didn't have to worry about the police, since they were no match for his destructive powers. All he would have to do is destroy a beam on a billboard or something and have it fall on them. Or he could destroy their cars. Either option was plausible.

Then again, they might not go after him at all because of his reputation and the danger they would be in should they try to catch him.

With renewed vigor he moved even faster to get to the little town waiting for him.

…

He managed to slink around on the rooftops unnoticed, even with the blaring sun beating down on his back. A man clothed in all black may have been easy to spot in the daylight, but he took advantages of the alleyways and tall rooftops to stay out of sight.

He grinned as he looked to his right, to where the grocery store was located only a few feet away from the pharmacy. These owners must've had convenience on their minds when they opened a pharmacy and a grocery store so close to one another. It wouldn't take him long at all to get what he needed and get out of there.

So, with that thought in mind, he jumped down to the street below. A woman across the road shrieked and swiftly ran inside the hardware store she was in front of. Ignoring the pleasure of causing such fear, he strolled inside the pharmacy.

Cashiers that had been in the middle of ringing people out stopped and stared, frozen in fright and shock. Customers paused in whatever they were doing to gape at the supervillain; one man still held a box of medicine in the air that he had plucked from the shelf.

They didn't know what to do. Scream? Run? Call the police? Try to take him on their own?

No, that last option was suicide and they all knew it.

"Relax, I'm not here to rob you or hurt anyone," Chat Noir said dryly, rolling his eyes but secretly relishing in the palpable tension in the room. "I just came here for something and then I'll be on my way."

His lips tugged down from the carless smile he previously showed.

"Don't do anything stupid, and I _will_ just be on my way after I get what I came here for."

Ignoring their confused stares, he walked to a random aisle, hoping it would have what he was looking for. After finding nothing but erectile dysfunction pills and gas relief stuff, he moved to the next aisle.

Hopefully he would never need either of those items.

Thankfully, this aisle seemed much more promising. This one was filled with children's medicine and vitamins of all different kinds. Moving down, he got to the adult versions. He narrowed his eyes as he mentally read each label in depth, trying to pinpoint which medicine would be best for Marinette.

Squatting down, he read each of the labels for the medicines on the lower racks. Finally, he came across something promising.

It was liquid, grape flavored, and treated fever and pains. With a triumphant grin he took it off the rack, and grabbed another medicine that had caught his eye. It was a grape-flavored spray used to treat sore throats. Apparently, it had max strength relief and coated to protect the throat.

On a whim he picked up a small container of vapo-rub, just in case she suffered from a congested nose later on.

With a satisfied smirk he began to head out of the store, when he spotted a backpack out of the corner of his eye. It would come in handy when having to carry the medicine and the food he was very soon going to have to carry. So he quickly grabbed that as well, and with a carefree wave walked out of the store, all the while ignoring the still-gaping people.

…

" _Chat!"_

_She gasped as he in turn smirked, continuing to assault her neck with open-mouthed kisses. Her hands were gripping his golden locks, silently urging him to continue. Her eyes were closed in pleasure, but she knew if they were opened they would be darkened and hazy._

_He eventually brought his lips back to her mouth, where he didn't waste time to kiss away her senses to the point that she was unaware of anything else but him and herself. As she let out a satisfied moan when his tongue met with hers, he trailed a clawed hand up her exposed leg. She shivered when he took a firm grip on it and used it to pull himself ever closer to her._

_Once again he separated his mouth from hers to kiss past her chin, down the column of her throat, and to her collarbone, where he proceeded to plant kisses down to the valley of her breasts. Her silk nightgown hardly covered anything anymore, yet she found that she didn't care about that miniscule detail at the moment._

" _Chat," she breathed again, her hands gripping his golden locks so tightly she was surprised he wasn't grimacing in pain._

" _Hm?" he murmured, raising his head just a little bit as he looked at her. The ends of his mouth curled up in quite possibly the smuggest grin she had ever seen. She probably would've slapped it off if they weren't in the situation they were in right then._

_She wasn't calling him, at least she didn't expect him to answer her. But he did, and now she supposed she must respond to him. If only she could gather her thoughts for one coherent sentence, or even a word that wasn't his name._

_Just as she opened her mouth to answer him, he returned his attention to the top of her right breast, where he began to nip and suckle with his teeth. She gasped, instinctively arching her back at the dizzying sensation._

" _What is it, Princess?" he asked after he paused in his ministrations to gaze up at her with a devious smirk. She tried answering him, but he returned to his mission of giving her a lasting love bite before she could._

_When he finished he placed a tender kiss on the new mark before moving his head directly beside her ear._

" _What do you want?" he whispered huskily, causing a new blush to bloom over her cheeks and her breath to hitch._

" _I-"_

" _I'm back," he continued, kissing her earlobe. "I have it."_

_Back? Back from where? Ah, who cared when he was giving her this kind of passion and giving her this kind of pleasure?_

" _I have it, Princess," he repeated, only this time his voice sounded a lot more clear. "I have your medicine. Wake up…wake up!"_

"Marinette?"

She flinched, startled as her eyes flew open to look at Chat, who most certainly wasn't on top of her and kissing her breath away. He sported a concerned frown as he observed her, in his hands he held a few boxes of different kinds of medicine.

"Are you alright? You look even more flushed," he remarked as he placed the back of a gloved hand against her forehead.

"You feel warmer, and you're drenched in a cold sweat. I'm sorry, Princess, I tried to be as fast as I could," he lamented as he placed a small jar and box on the table to open up the other box. In no time he had it open and took out the decently-sized bottle of grape-looking medicine.

"I got the liquid version, like you told me to," he commented with a bittersweet grin before twisting off the cap of the bottle and pouring some of the contents into the little clear cup, filling it up to the exact measurement that she needed.

Still stupefied at her dream, she could do nothing but open her mouth when the cup gently coaxed at her lips. With a few gulps the liquid was gone and he was replacing it back in the box.

"I'll give you more in six hours if your fever hasn't gone down by then," he promised, taking out his baton and pressing the paw pad to reveal the hidden screen. "It's 6:30 now, so it'll be 12:30 when you need more. I'll have to remember that." When he kept tapping at the paw prints she could only guess that he was setting an alarm.

"I also got you some sore throat medicine," he said when he replaced his staff to his backside. "It's the spray-kind."

She didn't say anything as he opened the other box, taking out a weird little bottle with a nozzle and a tube attached with a mushy, squeezable end to spray out the medicine. It reminded Marinette of a bottle of perfume.

"Open wide," he teased before setting it in front of her mouth. She complied, and after two sprits of the grape-tasting stuff he was back to replacing it in the box.

"I also got some cream for a stuffy nose. Do you have that?"

When she successfully sniffed without any issue, she shook her head in the negative.

"That's good," he replied with a heartwarming smile. "I can make you something if you're hungry, but I'm also going to be making chicken noodle soup for you. It's not going to be done for a few hours, so I understand if you want something now."

He was making her soup? Like actual, homemade soup? Just how dedicated was this man? But she couldn't deny that the gesture made her heart melt.

"I'm fine," she managed to say hoarsely. "I'm not that hungry, I can wait. Thank you, Chat."

He grinned, taking a step back to sweep himself into a low bow. "Well, I couldn't let my princess die of a fever, could I? What kind of a knight would I be if I let that happen?"

She giggled before she had to stop to cough. He immediately straightened back up to rub soothing circles along her back.

"Do you need anything?" he murmured, his voice practically dripping with care and love. For some reason it made her stomach do that strange tingly-thing.

"No, I'm fine. I think I just need some rest."

He nodded. "Alright. I'll be back when the soup is ready, should you want it. Good night," he bid before bending down and kissing her scalp.

She froze at the unexpected contact, yet he didn't seem to think anything of it. After the momentary contact he drew back and slipped out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

Only to open it again to say something else.

"I'm glad to see you're not so delirious anymore."

He winked cheekily while her cheeks flushed red in pure embarrassment at the memory of what she had said to him before he left. He chuckled at her reaction prior to closing the door, and didn't come back in this time.

Marinette released a sigh as she collapsed back on her pillows, her mind going back to the passionate dream she had.

She had a fever, and people weren't exactly in the right of mind when they had a fever. That was the explanation for the dream, it was only the fever, and not because she was attracted to Chat Noir or anything.

Right?


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have some miraculous Selfless fan art! 
> 
> http://badgerpelt103.deviantart.com/art/Selfless-Ch11-661785854
> 
> AND 
> 
> http://lunarluna331.tumblr.com/post/157113973492/for-ghostgirl19posts-i-love-selfless-ok-its
> 
> AND
> 
> http://papayapart.tumblr.com/post/157052421019/chat-noirs-eyes-scanned-the-crowd-for-a-brief

Marinette felt something hard and cool prodding at her lips when she next woke up.

Her mouth puckered in distaste as a low, annoyed groan tore out of her throat. She tried turning her head away to resume her sleep but the pesky thing followed after her.

“Just open your mouth, Princess,” a voice whispered. Chat Noir’s, to be exact. She wasn’t groggy enough to not be able to recognize him. “I just need to take your temperature. You don’t even have to open your eyes.”

Well, she guessed she could indulge him, since he was asking so nicely. That, and he did go out to buy the medicine she needed instead of trying to force the pills down her throat. So, she obliged, opening her mouth just enough for him to slip the thermometer through.

While she waited, she felt one of his cool, leather-covered hands press itself against her forehead. She welcomed the cool reprieve with an appreciative sigh, and tried to nuzzle her head closer to his hand to get more.

She let out a whine of displeasure when she felt his hand disappear, but smiled again when she felt a cool, damp cloth placed on her forehead as a substitute.

It was then that the thermometer began to beep. She felt him promptly remove the device from her mouth, only to hear a sigh from him seconds afterward.

“It’s gone down, but not enough,” he murmured before she heard him start to fumble with something. Figuring that was that, she tried to return to the world of dreams, but was foiled when she felt a hand on the back of her neck gently pick up her head.

“No,” she moaned tiredly in protest. Didn’t he understand that all she wanted was more sleep?

“Just swallow this and you can go back to sleep, Princess,” he whispered as she felt something hard and plastic touching her lower lip.

With a small, annoyed grumble she surrendered, opening her mouth and drinking the grape-flavored medicine in a few gulps. When she could taste no more she found herself being slowly laid back down on the pillow, his hand vanishing from her neck just seconds after she met with the soft and mushy fabric.

“The soup is done. Are you hungry at all?” he asked quietly.

Marinette paused before she responded. Granted, she was tired and wanted to get back to sleep as soon as possible…but that chicken noodle soup was really tempting.

“I’ll have some,” she mumbled, her voice low and almost garbled that only came from being deeply asleep. With a groan, she shifted into a sitting position, took off the damp rag on her forehead and finally opened her eyes to see Chat smiling sweetly at her.

Why he had such a look she didn’t know. Her hair must be wild and damp from fever sweat, her voice sounded like she swallowed nails, and she was confident to say that she looked disgusting, overall.

Maybe he was secretly blind, and so couldn’t see how she looked.

“Alright, I’ll be right back,” he informed, the smile never leaving his face as he turned and left the room.

Marinette took the time to gather the many pillows on her bed and stack a few so she could lean against them while sitting up. Reaching over the side of the bed, she flicked the rag onto the table beside her.

Still feeling hot, she removed the blankets off herself so her pale legs were free to the open air. For a moment, she felt comfortably cooler, until she began to feel chilled. With a defeated groan she replaced the blankets.

She hated having the chills. They were perhaps the worst thing about a fever.

It wasn’t too long after that Chat came back, holding a tray in his hands with a bowl of the steaming soup on top of it. She perked up immediately, her nose already picking up on the mouthwatering aroma.

He grinned as he set the tray over her lap, and she was pleased to see that it went high enough so she could eat the soup without bending her back.

“You’re a lot more awake now,” he commented with a chuckle.

“How can I not be? This looks delicious,” she replied, picking up her spoon and dipping it inside the bowl. For a moment her eyebrows crinkled and a grin took over her features.

“Wagon wheel noodles?” she observed amusedly, peering up at him with humor twinkling in her bluebell eyes.

“What?” he asked defensively, crossing his arms together. “They’re fun! I mean, they’re a lot less boring than the regular spaghetti noodles or the elbow ones.”

Marinette laughed, because she never thought he could think so childishly. When she was younger she used to love having ‘fun’ noodles whenever she had to eat anything with pasta, but over time she grew out of it and didn’t care whether she had the ‘boring’ noodles or not.

Apparently, Chat Noir never grew out of that phase.

“So this is the thanks I get?” he retorted, looking cross but she could see his eyes sparkle with amusement, thus giving away the charade. “I go out for medicine just for you, take care of you, and slave over a hot stove for hours making chicken noodle soup only for you to criticize the noodles. I’m hurt, Princess. I’m hurt.”

She rolled her eyes with a scoff. “You’re so over-the-top.”

He grinned and shot her a cheeky wink in reply.

She shook her head with a smile as she scooped some broth, a few bits of chicken, and a single wagon wheel noodle on her spoon. After blowing some air on the mixture to cool it, she inserted the spoon in her mouth.

Immediately the inside of her mouth exploded with warmth, as her tongue delighted in the delectable food. Her eyes closed and a satisfied moan slipped past her lips as she chewed on the soft chicken. This was the best soup she ever had, she concluded, as she dipped her spoon back in the bowl for more.

“I take it you like it?” he guessed hopefully, although he had a feeling that he was right.

“This is amazing,” she breathed after swallowing another mouthful. She would’ve asked how he’d done it, but she was fully aware that he was already a great cook. So chicken noodle soup shouldn’t have been too hard for him to make, compared to the other lavish dinners he had prepared for her.

Nonetheless, she couldn’t help but be pleasantly surprised, anyway.

“Thank you,” he replied, presenting a beaming smile to her. “I’ve only made it once or twice, so I worried it wouldn’t turn out right.”

“Is there honestly anything you _can’t_ cook?” she inquired with a teasing lift of her eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he answered, a smirk forming on his lips. “Water.”

She groaned whilst simultaneously rolling her eyes.

“Really?” she deadpanned.

“Well, it’s true,” he quipped as he flashed finger guns at her. “You can’t cook water!”

“Get out,” she ordered in an ‘I’m so done’ tone, causing him to laugh and sit down by her bedside. She continued to eat while she waited for his chuckles to die down, not at all giving him any sort of attention that could encourage him further.

“Do you feel any better?” he asked softly after he had sufficiently calmed down.

“A little,” she answered honestly. “Thank you, Chat.”

He tilted his head, confused.

“For what?”

“For taking care of me,” she clarified, although she felt the answer was obvious. “You could’ve just given me the medicine and left me in bed. But…well,” she paused, a blush lighting up her cheeks as her eyes flickered to the bowl in front of her.

Chat was quick to notice the change in her complexion, his heart doing little flips as his mind conjured up plenty of reasons for her sudden shyness.

However, he banished those thoughts once he remembered that he shouldn’t get his hopes up.

“You’re actually taking care of me,” she continued, gaining the nerve to look at him in the eyes again. “You’re being attentive to me, catering to all my needs and treating me like I’m your patient or something. It’s something I can only think of my parents doing for me. So, thank you.”

She knew it wasn’t her best speech, rather it was more of awkward babble, but she hoped that it was enough to get her point across.

When she looked at him she noticed that under the edge of his mask, ending just below his cheekbones, was a faint pink coloration.

Was he…blushing?

He blinked, looking away and when he returned his attention to her, his face was back to the normally tan color without a hint of pink staining his skin. Did she just imagine it?

“You’re welcome,” he replied gently, almost in a whisper as his green irises bore into her blue ones. The empty soup bowl lay forgotten on the tray as the pair simply gazed at one another in silence.

Marinette’s breath came in small, soft pants in and out of her mouth as she was unable to look away from Chat. What was this, she wondered. Why were they suddenly looking at each other like this? What did it mean?

Fortunately, the spell was broken when Chat bit his lower lip and glanced away.

“Do…do you want any more soup?”

She shook her head, even though he wasn’t facing her anymore. Fiddling with her fingers clasped together, she answered him.

“No, I-I’m good. I’m full. Thank you, though.”

He nodded.

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll just-ah-take the bowl and tray, now.”

He stood up, following through with his words. Marinette removed some of the pillows behind her so she was lying down on one again.

Chat paused as he was about to leave the room. He turned around, looking at her as though he was contemplating something. Finally, an easy smile bloomed across his features.

“I hope you feel better in the morning, Princess. Good night.”

“You too,” she said automatically, immediately balking when she realized how her returning sentiment didn’t make any sense at all.

“I-I mean, good night to you too! Not ‘you too’ as in ‘I hope you feel better, too’ because that wouldn’t make any sense, since you’re not sick. Not like I am. But you already know that. Just night good you too-gah-I-I mean _good night to you too_!”

Chat had the blankest stare she had ever seen him display. Marinette’s cheeks flushed red as she sunk lower into the mattress, hoping a black hole would just open up and swallow her that instant.

First the dirty dream about him, and now she was rambling and stammering to him. What was wrong with her? She hasn’t done that ever since…well, ever since Adrien Agreste was a part of her life.

He blinked once, and to her relief another smile lifted his lips which very soon changed into a grin.

“Good night, Marinette.”

With those last words, he opened the door and left.

She reached over to the bedside lamp to turn it off, then plopped back down onto the pillow with a whoosh of air leaving her lungs.

“What is happening to me?” she wondered out loud.

…

The next day, Marinette awoke earlier than usual. It could’ve been because she received plenty of sleep the night before, or maybe because of the sunlight streaming in through her window.

Or it may have had to do with the faint sounds of piano music floating in the air.

Interest fully piqued, she got out of bed and went to her closet to fetch a silken robe. After tying it on, she slipped her feet into her fluffy slippers and walked out of the bedroom.

Marinette followed the lovely song throughout the mansion until she came across a door on the first floor that was practically hidden away. She had never seen it during her wanderings, and he had never shown it to her.

She was aware that it was probably because he didn’t want her in there, but she couldn’t resist quietly opening the door to see where the music was emanating from.

What she didn’t expect, was to see Chat Noir sitting ramrod straight on a piano bench, with his gloved hands slowly gliding over the keys of the massive black piano in front of him. She watched, transfixed, as each key he pressed contributed to the soothing song.

She had no idea that he could play the piano. It wasn’t something she would expect a supervillain to do. Then again, he has done a lot of things that a supervillain wouldn’t normally do. Why should now be any different?

Her eyes closed as she let the tranquil melody wash over her, her side leaning against the doorframe as she listened.

But, a few more notes later, he suddenly stops.

Her eyes flutter open, thinking that either the song was over, or he discovered her.

She was glad to see that neither outcome was the answer.

The song had simply ceased for a few moments, then picked back up into a quicker tempo. She watched, mesmerized as his fingers hit each key with ease, playing the song without looking like any excessive effort was being made.

A smile reached her lips as what was, undoubtedly, the climax of the song being performed. Her head began to slightly sway from side to side, in beat to the music. Her heartbeat quickened in anticipation for each upcoming note as she let in a soft, amazed gasp through her mouth.

Abruptly he stopped, the notes falling flat as he spun around to face her with his mouth open, bewilderment lighting his green eyes.

Marinette internally cursed for giving herself away so easily.

Neither one said anything. Her, afraid of his reaction, and he still in shock at having being caught playing the piano.

At last, he blinked as some sense came back to him.

“You’re supposed to be in bed.”

She shrugged.

“I feel better.”

His eyebrows furrowed as his protective instinct began to take over the shock.

“You could have a relapse,” he informed her sternly. “Go back to bed.”

“But I feel fine,” she retorted, stepping closer to him instead of the opposite. “And…” Her attention shifted to her slippers as if they were the most interesting things in the room. “I want to watch you play,” she admitted almost bashfully. “You play really well.”

She chanced a peek at him from under her lashes, to find him with his eyes widened and pinned on her. His lips were parted, and for a while he didn’t-or couldn’t-say anything.

As the silence stretched on, Marinette’s anxiety was clawing its way to the surface.

_Why did I do that? Why did I say that? I should’ve never come in here, I should’ve just stayed away. Or I should’ve went back to bed when he told me to. But now I’ve dug myself in a deeper hole. Really, Marinette, what were you thinking?!_

At last, he cleared his throat, as his cheeks were illuminated with a coat of pink.

“I-uh-“ he stammered, bringing a hand to the back of his neck as his eyes couldn’t look at her any longer. “I guess it would be okay if you stayed. I mean, you’ve had your medicine, and you said that you were feeling better. But just for a few minutes.”

She didn’t know she was smiling until she could feel her lips being pulled taut from almost stretching to their limit. Chat mirrored the expression, as he turned and gestured to the place beside him on the bench.

Her feet padded across the floor to the bench, where she promptly sat down. There wasn’t much room, and so she had to sit pressed against his side. Strangely, she didn’t mind.

“Why didn’t you tell me you could play?” she asked curiously with a hint of pain. She felt hurt that he withheld such a gift from her, after having lived together for so long. Playing piano wasn’t embarrassing in the least, so she didn’t know why he felt he had to hide that piece of information from her.

His smile turned sheepish as he looked down at the keys.

“I guess I just thought that you wouldn’t care. Plus I don’t play all that much, I felt that it would’ve been a useless detail to share about myself.”

“No part of you is useless,” she argued quietly before she could stop herself.

Chat inclined his head in her direction, his stare blatantly surprised.

“Thank you, Marinette,” he replied, gratified, just as quietly as she had spoken. 

“Th-That song,” she stuttered, wanting to change the subject. “Can…can you play it again?”

A corner of his mouth curled up in a warm grin.

“As you wish.”

Marinette watched, cheeks darkened and heartbeat doubled, as he lifted his hands to the keys once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those wondering, Chat was playing ‘Dawn’ by Dario Marianelli. Or, you might know it better as the song Georgiana plays in the 2005 Pride and Prejudice movie :)


	16. Chapter 16

Near the end of the song, Marinette had started to feel a little woozy. She tried telling Chat that her swaying and almost falling off the bench was not because she very nearly passed out. No, it was just because she was so clumsy.

"While I would believe that on any other day," he had drawled dryly, earning him an indignant scowl in return, "I know that isn't the case now. Come on, let's get you back to bed. It's about time I check your temperature, anyway."

"I'm not a child," she grumbled yet did as he told. She stood from the bench, trying to discreetly wipe fever sweat from her forehead as she walked past him, hoping he wouldn't notice. She was still trying to play the 'clumsy' card, after all.

Although, it didn't feel like she was winning at this point in time.

"Hey, wait for me, Princess," he called, jumping out of his seat and going after her. He walked dutifully by her side, hands clasped behind his back as he did so while staring up at her with a small smile. "You could fall," he cautioned.

She scoffed.

"I may be clumsy, but even I don't trip on air."

"I didn't mean it like that," he clarified, his lips tugging down into a concerned frown. "You could pass out because of your fever spike."

"I told you I feel better," she snapped, directing a frosty-eyed glare on him. "I am perfectly capable of walking back to my room with no assistance."

With that and an extra huff of umbrage, she strode on ahead of him. Chat sighed, shook his head and sped up his pace.

Just in time for her to stop.

"Marinette?" he quietly called out, uneasy as he came to a stop at her side. "Are you okay?"

He lifted a hand to her shoulder, half-expecting to be rebuffed, but was even more worried when she didn't react at all.

"I feel," she mumbled, her eyelids fluttering. "…dizzy."

He blinked, taken aback, but managed to recover just in time for her to teeter and fall into his arms. He bent his knees, and with a quiet grunt hoisted her into a more secure position so that he was carrying her bridal-style.

He softly snorted as he brushed a dark lock of hair from her cheek.

"Yeah," he whispered sarcastically, a smile on his face as he started for her bedroom. "Perfectly capable."

…

It wasn't long after that Marinette woke. She looked around confusedly, at herself laying on top of the bed covers to the little chandelier above her, to the glass doors leading to the balcony. Finally, her head inclined in Chat's direction, to see him presenting her a toothy smile.

"Hey," he greeted lightly. He shifted a little in his temporary seat on the side of her bed.

Marinette's eyebrows knitted into a puzzled frown.

"How did I get here?" she wondered out loud. The last thing she remembered was insisting (rather harshly, come to think of it) to Chat that she could get to her room by herself. Everything after that point was a blank space.

"You did exactly as you said," he began. "You walked back to your room by yourself, and then fell asleep in your bed. I didn't think it was possible to fall asleep that fast," he chuckled.

"I did?" she questioned in doubt. She didn't remember any of that…

"Yep!" he confirmed, popping the 'p'. "But you didn't sleep for long, probably like five minutes. And just in time to take your medicine, too!"

Marinette groaned, tilting her head up to look at the ceiling. The medicine didn't taste bad, she was just tired of having to take it. She wanted to be cured, damn it.

"Come on," he goaded lively, already pouring the grape-flavored concoction into the plastic cup. "It's not that bad. I'm sure after this dose you'll be as good as new."

"Yeah, I wish," she muttered darkly. "I'm sick of all this medicine."

"Was that supposed to be a pun?" he asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he held out the cup to her.

She spared him a dulled expression.

"No."

Without another word, she took the cup and downed the contents.

"How _paw_ ful," he quipped, taking the empty cup from her fingers. "Because that pun would've been _sick_!"

He snickered as Marinette just rolled her eyes.

"A-And don't worry," he added suddenly, "I'm sure you'll be feeling _grape_ in no time!"

This time his laughter was louder and more prominent, while Marinette simply shook her head with a tiny smile dancing on her lips. She couldn't help but marvel again at how France's most dangerous enemy was sitting here, nursing her back to health and cracking cheesy puns.

It also didn't escape her notice that he joked a lot less ever since he switched loyalties. When he was a superhero, his opponents would sometimes get so annoyed and distracted by his sense of humor that they would completely miss his oncoming fist. In other times, they had gotten so fed up with him that they actually gave themselves up to the police so they could be rid of him quicker.

Chat Noir was happier, then. More carefree.

When he became a villain, his humor was more snarky and cruel. He would belittle the police, comment on how they were too dim-witted to ever catch someone as powerful as him. When Chat had taunted akumas, it was cute. He didn't really mean any of it, he knew there was a person underneath the tainted butterfly.

But everyone knew he meant every one of his harsh words when he taunted them.

Then again…did he really mean it?

It was obvious that Chat Noir wasn't all bad, he had proved how kind he could be more times than she could count since she was brought here. So she was aware that he wasn't evil, she'd known for a while now.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't happy being a villain?

And he just made two puns now, so did that mean he was happier?

The only significant thing that has happened to him recently was her coming here, as far as she knew.

Then, by that logic, did _she_ make him happy?

She released a tired sigh and draped an arm across her forehead. This was all too much to think about at the current moment.

"Princess?" he called in mild alarm, his laughter immediately ceasing. "Do you feel alright? Do you have a headache? I don't have liquid headache medicine, but I think the fever one cures headaches, too. Just let me check-"

"Why do you call me that?" she interrupted softly.

His nickname seemed to break through her scattered thoughts on the mystery that was Chat Noir. In fact, this nickname's reason was yet another mystery to her, and she finally felt brave enough to ask it. Well, that and it finally came to her mind when he called her it. She had gotten so used to it that it hardly made her wonder about its meaning anymore.

"Call you what?" he asked, bemused.

"'Princess'," she clarified. "Why do you call me that?"

"Oh," he intelligently replied, his hand dropping in mid-air from when he was about to grab the box of medicine. The flesh below his mask began to color into a light pink as he bashfully brought his hand to the back of his neck.

"Well," he started, obviously wary and unsure of her reaction. "I just…you just seem like a princess to me. You're beautiful, kind, headstrong, and selfless. I think you're everything a princess should be. Plus, you always had a balcony," he chuckled.

Marinette wasn't sure howto react after hearing his reasoning. He admitted that he thought she was beautiful, along with kind, selfless, and headstrong. She knew he cared for her, but to think of her this highly?

 _Why_ , she wanted to ask.

 _Why_ do you think those things?

 _Why_ , after having only known me since you brought me here?

Speaking of, _why_ did you bring me here?

But she couldn't. Something just didn't feel right. She couldn't ask him now.

Or she didn't want to.

Maybe she was afraid of his answer, of the implications and what it would bring.

He cleared his throat, rising off the bed as he did so.

"You should get some rest," he advised. His cheeks were already back to their normal color. "Unless you want some breakfast, first?"

Marinette's stomach chose that precise moment to let out a low, rumbling growl that had her face heating up in an embarrassed blush.

Chat snickered, prompting her to cross her arms and glare at the wall to her right.

"I guess that answers it," he spoke amusedly. "I'll be right back. What would you like?"

Truthfully, she wasn't feeling up to a lavish breakfast. She had a craving for only one thing.

"Toast."

He furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief of her ordinary answer.

"Toast?" he repeated. "That's all?"

She nodded.

"Yes, toast." She looked back to him, and although she was still a bit annoyed how he laughed at her before, she tacked on a 'please' at the end, anyway.

"Alright," he conceded, a corner of his mouth arching in a grin. "Toast it is. Four pieces?"

She paused to think about it, before nodding again.

"Yeah. Four sounds good."

"Your wish is my command," he professed with a bow prior to leaving the room. As soon as the door clicked shut, Marinette let out a tired sigh and stared up at the ceiling above her.

"If that's true, then I wish you would stop making my brain run in circles."

…

"So, what else can you play?" she asked casually, prior to taking another bite of her perfectly-brown toast without a single hint of a burn on it.

Chat shrugged, leaning back in the chair he pulled up to her bedside.

"Anything, I guess. Some songs are harder than others, though, which I need sheet music for. While other ones, like the one I just played, are embedded in my memory so it's easier to play and the notes come out smoother.

Marinette picked up her drink of white milk, eyes sparkling with mirth as a coy smile flitted across her lips against the rim of the glass.

"Nursing the sick, cooking, _and_ playing the piano? Hardly traits of a dastardly villain, I'd say."

He snorted with a chuckle as his own eyes danced with gaiety.

"I guess you could say I'm one of a kind."

That much was true, she could attest to that. For what kind of supervillain hell-bent on terrorizing all of France would provide and care for a lowly civilian? None, of that she was certain. For a true, cold-hearted villain didn't care about anybody but themselves and what they could gain from causing pain to others.

Chat Noir broke those standards when it came to her.

Granted, his kindness to her didn't justify all that he has done since he changed sides, but maybe she could help revert him back to the true hero he was.

She swallowed after her latest gulp of milk.

"I guess that's true. After all, you're the only villain I know that makes terrible puns."

Instead of the teasing reaction she was expecting, his lips flattened into a pensive line. After a few seconds of pondering, he exhaled and smiled as if almost in amazement.

"I don't think I've actually made a pun in public ever since…well," he trailed off, his lips forming into an awkward frown. "…ever since that day."

Ah, yes. That fateful day when he robbed a bank and everything spiraled downhill.

"Chat?" she mumbled, her finger tracing the rim of the empty glass in her hands. "Why did you stop being a superhero?"

He didn't say anything. Marinette wondered briefly if he didn't hear her, but it was apparent he did by the way his eyes became dulled and hollow with long-buried memories swirling in their depths. For what seemed like ages but was likely for only a minute, he didn't look nor speak to her.

Until, he stood from his chair and took her empty tray and glass.

"You should get some sleep, now," he muttered in a whisper, still refusing to look at her.

Marinette frowned in disappointment. She should've expected him not to answer her. Yet she felt hopeful that she would finally learn perhaps the most persistent question her brain kept reminding her of.

She gave him another chance to tell her. If he still proved unyielding in his decision, then she would let the matter drop.

"Chat? Could you tell me a story?"

He turned, eyes widened with surprise. Clearly, he wasn't expecting that sort of request.

"A story?" he repeated, wanting to know if he heard right.

"Yes," she affirmed with a nod. "Tell me a story, a story that no one has ever heard before. Tell me a story that you would never tell anyone until now."

He faltered, understanding dawning on his features as he looked off to the side in uncertainty. Marinette deflated, thinking she lost, when he suddenly spoke.

"Alright. I'll tell you a story."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those wondering, Chat lied to Mari about being carried up because he didn't want her to think she needed him. He didn't want her to be embarrassed or hurt her pride ;)


	17. Chapter 17

Marinette almost didn't believe it. He was going to tell her his supervillain origin story? She had no idea what he went through in order to become a villain, so she was a bit excited and anxious to hear it.

Chat placed her tray and glass on the floor outside her room before he came back in and took his previous place at her bedside. His face held no emotions she could pick up on, his expression was as blank as a sheet of paper. She wondered how that would change throughout the story.

He held up a single finger. Her eyes bore into his own in rapt attention.

"It's called 'The Hungry Kwami'," he spoke in a serious tone that betrayed no hints of what he was feeling.

Marinette frowned, not expecting the weird title of this story. And what was a kwami? And why was it hungry?

"Once there was a hungry kwami," he continued, just as solemnly as before. "It was so hungry that it ate the world's supply of cheese and everyone died." It was only then that he flashed her a smile. "The end."

. . . What just happened?

While Marinette was trying to make sense of what he just told her, Chat grinned and stood up again. She remained silent as he walked to the door, and still didn't talk when he opened the door and walked out into the hallway.

However, after he bent down to pick up the tray, her indignant screech rang out throughout the entire mansion. The sudden ear-piercing noise made him flinch and his ears to ring, due to his enhanced hearing from the miraculous.

But even with the pain, her words made it all worth it.

"Are you kidding me?! You stupid cat, get back here!"

Chat laughed, good and loud as he shut the door, chuckling as he made his way down to the kitchen and ignoring her aggravated shrieks.

She'll get over it.

…

After Marinette had properly stewed and seethed over Chat Noir's bullshit story, she took to drawing in one of the many sketchbooks he had given her to calm down. Once the annoyance and frustration had melted away, it paved the way for disappointment and hurt.

She knew that when it came down to it, he was a supervillain and she was just a pawn in order to maintain peace in Paris.

So then why was she hurt that he didn't trust her enough to tell his story? Given the more recent events of him taking care of her while she was sick, she figured he'd at least trust her a little bit more. Her own faith in him had gradually grown since she came here; didn't his?

Apparently not.

She huffed, picking up her sketchbook and pencil again with resolute force and started the basic lines to the skirt of a ball gown.

If he didn't trust her, why should she care? If he didn't want to tell her his story, that was fine. It's not like she _liked_ him enough to not want any secrets between them. They had a strictly professional kind-of captor/kind-of captive relationship. If he didn't want to tell her something, then that was fine by her. She didn't care, because she didn't like him.

She didn't like his smiles, or how he cooked for her, or took care of her when she was sick, or made her laugh.

Her pencil paused on the paper.

Okay, maybe she did like those things.

But she definitely didn't like how he was a villain and wanted her in exchange for peace. She would never be okay with that.

Although…it did seem like he was changing for the better…and if he was a hero again then there would be nothing stopping her from liking him.

But he wasn't a hero, he was a villain.

 _But a nice one,_ a traitorous part of her mind whispered enticingly. _Even with his flaws, you still like him._

Marinette sighed.

Okay, so she may like him. But as a possible friend only! Nothing beyond that! And she wouldn't become full-on friends with him until after he let her go with the promise he'll leave everyone alone, and/or he'll change his way.

_And yet you still want him, if that wet dream you had of him was any indication._

A tortured moan slipped past her lips. She set the sketchbook and pencil aside once again to bring her knees to her chest and rest her chin atop them.

Okay, she had to admit that she did kind of want him like that. But those were only hormones, and he was obviously an attractive guy. Anyone would want him! It was purely a physical feeling for him, nothing else.

_Only physical? Then why are you so hung-up on his kindness? Face it: you want him, despite his villain status. That can be fixed later. For now, you can't stop thinking about what he can do to you, and not just in your dreams…_

Marinette buried her face in her knees and groaned loudly in frustration and acceptance.

Fuck her life.

…

The next day, Chat deemed Marinette healthy enough to get out of bed and try to continue on with her life as normally as before she had gotten sick. She didn't have a fever since the spike yesterday, so hopefully this mean that she was in the clear. However, he did caution her to take it easy, just in case. She had rolled her eyes in turn yet promised him she would fulfill his request.

Her feelings regarding him were still a jumbled mess, yet there were two things that were clear to her.

She liked him in the friendly sense, and in the carnal sense.

His villainy, well, he was showing signs of changing for the greater good. Maybe if he let her go and abandoned his current path, they could…

She shook her head as she made her way down the stairs. She didn't want to think about this now, and suffer another headache. As Alya often advised her back home, she needed to go with the flow. Take things slow and easy, and see how they turn out. Don't overthink things.

So that's what she did.

She didn't overthink as Chat set down a plate of waffles in front of her with that smile that made his eyes shine with warmth.

She didn't overthink as he sat across from her and inquired after her health, making sure she felt better. And especially not when he admitted that he was worried for her with a tinge of pink lighting up the exposed skin beneath his mask.

She didn't overthink when she grabbed the bottle of syrup on the table, proceeding to pour nearly half of it onto her waffles, as he shook his head with that 'what am I going to do with this girl' grin on his face. Or when her mouth was filled with so much of her breakfast that some syrup escaped past the pucker of her lips and he smiled amusedly as he handed her a napkin.

And she absolutely did not overthink it when after their breakfast he took her hand and gave the knuckles a kiss, claiming that he was glad to have a dining companion again.

Nope. Not at all.

But that didn't stop her from racing upstairs to her room as soon as he left the kitchen and bursting into her bathroom, trying in vain to get rid of her blush with cold water.

…

Later that evening, after a particularly uneventful day of more stitching on a shirt she had recently designed and started deciding on the colors and the cloth materials for, she ventured out of her sewing room and downstairs of the mansion.

Marinette let her mind wander with possibilities as she walked on, with no set destination in mind.

She could go swimming, or maybe fix herself a snack in the kitchen. Or she could-

The sound of pool balls smacking against each other tore her out of her reverie.

Or she could go to the recreational room, where it had a pool table, a ping pong table, and a foosball table. Now, she couldn't be _exactly_ sure, but she was fairly confident that the sound of pool balls being scattered around meant that Chat was playing a game of billiards.

She walked to the very door leading to it, her hand poised to the doorknob, when she hesitated. Given her recent rollercoaster of feelings, it probably wasn't wise to be around him right then.

Then again, sometimes she was one to play with fire.

With that thought, she turned the knob and opened the door, her presence halting Chat from his next shot. He straightened from his lowered position toward the table, gifting her with a grin once it registered that she just walked in.

"Hey, Princess," he said, using the extra time from his next shot to pick up a cube of blue chalk from the side of the pool table. Without taking his eyes off her, he rubbed the chalk against the tip of his pool cue. "It's pretty late, isn't it?"

She shrugged.

"10:30 isn't exactly that late, in my book."

He set the chalk down, his green eyes taking on an interested light.

"Ah, so you're a night owl, then?"

She shrugged again.

"I guess."

Wow, she was an expert at keeping a conversation, huh? She tried not to let her bitterness of her own social shortcomings show on her face. She should've had more to say, since she was the one who came in here in the first place.

If Chat Noir minded her lack of conversation expertise, he didn't show it.

Instead, he smirked with a playful gleam in his eyes.

"Well, since we're both night owls with seemingly nothing else to do, how about a game of pool?"

Something inside of her leaped at his offer. However, the rational part of her brain stopped her in time from accepting.

"I can't," she spoke, quietly and embarrassed. "I don't know how to play pool."

It wasn't like she went to pool halls or bars back in Paris, nor did her parents have a pool table lying around the house. So it wasn't her fault that she had no idea how to play.

"Then it looks like this is your lucky day, Princess," he professed, squaring his shoulders and banging the pool cue in his hand on the floor. He used his free hand to place it over his heart. "For I'm _purr_ fectly willing to teach you how to play."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and humorously scoffed.

"You want to teach me how to play pool?" she inquired with an arched eyebrow. "Doesn't it take a while to learn?"

"Not when you have the right teacher," he purred lowly, momentarily causing her to falter in her earlier unwavering, amused expression. She bit her bottom lip, praying that she wasn't blushing like she thought she was, and did her best to school her features to look unaffected by his flirtatious remark.

But if flirting was his game, then she'd play it. Maybe if she forced herself to not respond to it, she could prove that her physical longing for him was just a passing phase and nothing more. Then her internal struggle would be over!

"Alright," she decided, a confident grin curling her lips. "Show me what you got, _teacher_."

" _Paw_ some," he replied with a grin as confident as hers had been, only this one had a bit more of a devious edge to it. He walked to the wall that held other pool cues, staring at them for a few seconds until he finally decided on the one to give her.

Before handing it to her, he made sure to chalk the tip.

Marinette held the cue in both of her hands, marveling at how it was light, but not too light, and just the right amount of heavy to inflict some damage on the white cue ball. While she was inspecting it in curiously, Chat took to gathering the pool balls together and racked them up so they were in a neat, perfect triangle near the lower end of the table.

After that, he walked to the other side and positioned himself in line with the cue ball.

"I'll break," he announced, drawing her attention back to him and off the pool stick in her hands. His eyes were on the ball in front of him, rather than her, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Just so we can get these scattered. Then I'll show you how to sink one."

She watched as he drew the pool cue back several times, trying to make sure his shot was as perfect as could be, when he suddenly snapped it forward, the tip of the stick making a dull thud against the cue ball before it surged forward. It smacked loudly against the other balls, and Marinette was a bit dismayed when she saw three balls all go into separate holes.

It certainly seemed like he knew what he was talking about. How was she ever going to get as good as him?

He strode toward her then, a smug grin dancing on his lips as he did so.

Cocky bastard.

"You know," he spoke airily, taking the time to lean his pool cue against the side of the table. "It's rightfully my turn since I sunk a ball. However," he paused to wink, unknowingly making her stomach flutter. "I'll make an exception for you. You know, since it's your first lesson and all."

She stamped down on the sudden attraction as best she could manage. Her lips thinned into a tight line as she eyed him with an unimpressed look.

"In that case, I'm thankful for your generosity."

He chuckled, showing that he easily caught on to her sarcasm.

"Anytime, Princess. Now first, you have to learn the right grip. Most beginners grip the cue too tightly; your hold should be relaxed, but not so that the cue will slip through your fingers when you take your shot."

"I think I can handle holding the stick," she sarcastically retorted with obvious signs of teasing, her lips quirking up as she confidently made her way to the side of the pool table, where the cue ball was resting perfectly in line with a ball that could be easily hit into the side pocket.

Noticing that she was trying to line up a striped ball, Chat quietly snorted in amusement.

"I guess I'm solids," he deduced with a half-grin of acceptance, casually walking to her right side to see how she was doing.

He had to press his lips together to rein in the snickers that so desperately wished to burst forth.

The end of her cue of tilting towards the sky. Her shoulders were hunched up and her knees looked locked. Her tongue was poking out of her mouth in stubborn concentration, trying to copy the way he balanced the front of the cue on the juncture between his thumb and index finger in order to line up the shot. However, every time she brought the stick back before she went to hit the cue ball, the tip of the stick slid off her fingers and she had to start over again.

He could tell she was getting increasingly frustrated, given her eventual angry grunts.

"Looks like you need a more _hands-on_ demonstration," he decided after he had sufficiently lost his initial humor with her attempts to correctly move the cue forward.

Marinette was about to shoot back that she was perfectly fine and able to hit a stupid ball with a stupid stick, until he pressed up against her left side and the words promptly died on her tongue.

She inaudibly swallowed, doing her best to keep her breathing even in this test of temptation. If she could survive this without becoming a blushing mess of goo, then she could survive whatever Chat Noir chose to dish out at her.

"First off, you're holding it wrong," he informed her gently, in a low murmur with his mouth poised to her ear, the action causing her breathing to stop altogether and her mouth to part in anticipation.

Okay, so maybe she wouldn't get a perfect 20 on this test. Perhaps at least a 15 would do? Damn, why was she even getting so affected like this? He was hardly even doing anything sinful yet her heart was starting to accelerate its beat all the same!

He reached an arm behind her to lower the cue so that it was level to her hip, all the while supposedly oblivious to how he was causing her breath to hitch.

"You have to relax your stance, as well. You're too tense; you need to loosen up."

Was he serious? How could she relax when he was literally pressing his body against her?! Didn't he feel anything at all during this? How could he remain so calm and collected while she was fully concentrating on not reacting out of the ordinary during this personal lesson, rather than the lesson itself?

She released a sigh as she nodded in response to the instruction and followed through, bending her knees a bit more and relaxing her previously strong stance, afterward lowering her shoulders as well.

_Damn, Marinette, get a grip on yourself. What's the matter with you?_

His finely, leather-covered muscles were currently up against her body; that was the matter!

"It looks like your bridge-er, how you're using your left hand for the shot-isn't working either. Here, maybe this would be better for you."

His warm, gloved hand found her bare left one, his fingers deftly shaping the way she was to hold the cue stick to his suggestion. She watched in wonder and attention as she was left with her hand somewhat resembling a slackened fist lying on the table, with her index finger looping around the tip of the cue so it could be guided by the space between her forefinger and middle one.

This time, he draped his body over hers completely, so that he was assisting her with getting ready to strike the ball in front of her.

Was it her imagination, or did she imagine his even breathing momentarily falter?

He cleared his throat before speaking again, though it didn't do much good, since his voice still sounded slightly husky.

"Don't rush the shot, either. Test to see if everything's right first. Make sure your balance is perfect, make sure you're lined up with the cue ball correctly. If something's off, there's nothing wrong with starting over."

Slowly, his hand brought the end of the cue stick back, Marinette instinctively following his lead. Together, they drew the stick forward and back several times, until she deemed herself ready with a resolute nod.

Together, they struck the cue ball hard.

The striped ball was a blur as it descended inside the pocket it was aimed at.

Marinette smiled widely, victoriously, as her heart did a somersault and the adrenaline surged at the accomplishment. With a happy gasp, she spun her head back to thank Chat.

She sobered once she observed how he hardly reacted. Instead, he was intently staring into her eyes, and it didn't look like he was going to stop any time soon.

Not that she minded, her mind was quick to determine.

His face was only a few centimeters away, her eyes level to his lips. She peered up at him beneath her lashes, idly wondering what exactly this moment meant, and noticed the green in his irises seemed to be a shade darker than normal.

Those same eyes flickered once to her lips before settling back on her eyes, eliciting a pleasing shiver to wrack her body. Her breathing came in soft, even pants, matching his own, that has already brushed over the top of her lip numerous times since they started this little not-so staring contest.

He blinked once, slowly down at her, the eyes adopting a lidded look once done. She found herself copying his expression, but unlike him, she eased her head ever so closer to his.

She had no idea what she was doing, she was just being guided on whatever her insides were screaming for at this point.

A pregnant pause later, and he too started to close the distance between them. His mouth was parted, his eyes aimed for his destination, her heart hammering and nerves buzzing, when he stopped just a hair's width away from sealing the deal.

She waited, not daring to move, to initiate the point of no return. Her eyes had slid partly shut, while Chat squeezed his own eyes shut tightly as if in pain.

In a flash he was away from her, shaking his head as he retreated back. Marinette was left reeling, still somewhat caught in his mesmerizing spell as she tried to snap out of it.

What she was left with, was confusion, disbelief, shock…and pain.

"I-I think that's the end of the lesson," he said, in a voice devoid of any emotion save for discomfort.

Marinette frowned. She could take a hint.

"Y-Yeah, okay. Good night."

As she left the room, the door clicking shut behind her, she paused before walking back to her room.

Was she just rejected?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't pick up on it, 'The Hungry Kwami' is a reference to 'The Ugly Barnacle' in Spongebob xD


End file.
